A Spell Gone Awry
by bookworm708
Summary: Hermione and Draco inadvertently create a potion that switches their positions in life at Hogwarts. Will the two enemies ever be able to band together and find a way to return to their normal lives?
1. Counting to Two

**A/N: So, after many years of reading fanfic, this is my first attempt to actually write. I honestly have no idea if it's good or bad, so I'm hoping lots of people will read it and let me know. Yes, actually I'm begging for constructive criticism and comments, I really have no idea what works and doesn't, or if there are grammar mistakes and such that I missed. Hope you like it, and I'll try to update quickly, at least in the beginning to get the story rolling.**

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Hermione braced herself as she entered the Potions classroom. It was only the second week of classes, but she already dreaded facing the Slytherins that she and the other seventh-year Gryffindors were forced to share the class with, as well as being forced to deal with Professor Snape.

It wasn't that she hated Potions, specifically, of course. In fact, the art of potion-making was rather enthralling to her and seemed to be the most mystical part of being a witch. As a child, she had watched many Muggle films that involved witches, always leaning over their cauldrons filled with simmering and bubbling concoctions. Of course, the stereotypical idea of witches was rather ridiculous – the long pointy noses covered in warts, the maniacal cackling. Actually, now that she thought about it, there were several professors that fit the bill quite nicely.

No, the potion-making wasn't the problem for Hermione. It was everything else about Potions class that bothered her. The dark, dank dungeons that left her shivering no matter how many layers she wore under her robes. The peculiar smell that pervaded the room and especially the ingredients cupboard, which struck her as being a mix of a funeral home and her parents' dentistry office.

But what bothered her the most, of course, were the people. She knew that Snape could technically be considered a good man; he was in the Order of the Phoenix and was spying on Voldemort at a great cost to himself. Still, his serpentine mannerisms, his oily voice, and greasy hair unnerved her a great deal.

Not that Hermione would let on to anyone, especially not Ron or Harry, but she spent more time and effort on preparing for Potions classes beforehand and doing the homework afterwards than she spent on the rest of her classes combined. She feared humiliation at Snape's hands more than anyone else.

Well, maybe not anyone else. Hermione felt distinctly uncomfortable around all the Slytherins as they were Gryffindor's rival house, sure, but Draco Malfoy had a way of setting her off-balance more than anyone else in her life. Most of the school, as well as all the gossip rags and even some of the newspapers assumed that Harry and Malfoy were the great rivals. After all, Harry was The Boy Who Lived and Malfoy was the Slytherin Sex God…those were not Hermione's own words, of course. In truth, while Harry and Malfoy held a deep animosity for each other, it was Hermione and Malfoy that were the true rivals. Hermione often wondered why people didn't notice more quickly, actually; she thought it would be quite obvious as they were Head Boy and Head Girl, taking advanced classes and competing for the top marks in all of them.

While all these thoughts were drifting through Hermione's head, she had entered the Potions classroom, sat down at her usual seat and as though in a trance pulled out all the necessary supplies out of her bookbag and arranged them neatly in front of her. However the sharp sound of Snape rapping on the blackboard drew her out of her reverie.

"Last week we started slow, a far too generous allowance on my part to let your small heads remember what we worked on last year," Snape said. "However, now that my yearly amount of kindness and understanding is used up, we shall proceed to the task at hand."

Snape whisked around to the front row of tables, brandishing parchment and a quill.

"Your current seating arrangement is final for the rest of the year…unless I see fit to move you, of course," Snape added silkily. "The person that shares your desk will also share your cauldron, and your grade. Learn to work together or don't, it's not my prerogative to make sure you pass."

Hermione realized with a start that she had been so lost in thought that she had no clue who was on the other side of her. Quickly she turned her head, only to find…no one. She hurriedly glanced around the classroom, trying to find a suitable someone else without a partner. As she looked, she caught Harry's eye, who was seated next to Ron. He gave her a sympathetic look and shrugged to indicate that he couldn't see a viable partner for her either.

_Well, maybe this won't be so bad_, she thought to herself. _I can probably achieve a much better grade than if I had to drag someone less adept along with me._

Hermione moved to raise her hand and ask Snape if she could work alone, as there was clearly an odd number of people in the classroom, when Snape pointed a yellowing fingernail to the back of the room.

"Yes, Draco?"

Hermione whipped around in her seat in horror, as she had not noticed Malfoy when she had previously scanned the classroom. Yet there he sat, at a desk, alone, partnerless. Hermione's mind stumbled to the inevitable outcome of this scenario, and Snape's words from only moments before rang in her ears. _Seating arrangement…final…sharing grades…_ Hermione stared helpless in Malfoy's direction, feeling like one of those people who witnesses a car accident and is powerless to stop it.

"It seems there are an odd number of people in this class, Professor," Malfoy drawled lazily. "However, I feel I am quite **experienced** enough to work alone."

Malfoy placed a special emphasis on the word 'experienced,' as if to indicate that Potions was not his only area of expertise. Some of the class tittered quietly at this, although it was mostly Slytherins, but some of the sillier Gryffindor girls giggled behind their hands and poked each other.

Snape raised his eyebrows. "However **experienced **you may be, Mr. Malfoy," Snape responded, matching Malfoy's tone exactly, "you would do well to work on your rudimentary mathematics. There is an even number of students in this class, which means you will have the privilege of sharing that lovely **expertise** with Ms. Granger, if you would be so kind as to move up here."

Malfoy's face immediately shifted from that of a privileged and favored student bantering with his Housemaster, to shock and disbelief, quickly followed by contempt and anger. He broke eye contact with Snape and swept the room with his eyes until they landed on Hermione's, where she sat, frozen and staring back at him.


	2. Empatheia Rivalis

Draco was beyond furious. Two things that should never, ever happen to him had just happened, and in rapid succession. First, Snape had openly mocked him in front of the Potions class. Draco was Snape's favorite and everyone knew it – he was the poster child for Slytherin and Snape, as Slytherin's Housemaster, usually gave him favors and praised him more often than everyone else combined. (That didn't actually say that much, now that he thought about it.)

The second thing, the worst thing, was Granger. That stupid bint was the bane of Draco's entire existence. It already galled him enough to have to share each and every class with her. Like all Malfoys, he had a superior intelligence, and was taking the most advanced classes available at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, Granger spent all of her time with a nose in a book and also managed to be placed in all the same classes.

It was a source of constant controversy between Draco and his mother. She always started by gently reminding him that she was so proud of him and all the things he had accomplished_. But if you would only apply yourself, Draco. Why settle for second when being first in clearly in your grasp?_ Draco would then calmly remind his mother that he had better things to do with his time then study. Besides, if he could achieve almost the same results as Granger with about tenth of the effort, he was already clearly ten times smarter than her.

This outlook had worked perfectly well for Draco during the first six years of his schooling. Coming in second to Granger was a mild irritant, especially the way her bushy head would bounce annoyingly up and down in her seat when she received her marks, and the way Potter and Weasley would loudly congratulate her, making sure everyone knew who had come out on top. But the thing was, Granger spent the tiny amount of time she had left after studying with the moronic Pothead and Weasel, while Draco spent his vast amounts of free time partying with his friends and enjoying a very full and busy sex life.

The year, however, was different. Being Head Boy to Granger's Head Girl was bound to happen – however much the general public loved Pothead, he wasn't all that bright in the academic department, and everyone knew the Weasel was the dumb one of the Golden Trio. So while Draco had anticipated being Head Boy and relished getting to wield the power the title held, as well as the plush suite and private bath that came along with it, he had been totally unprepared for the tedious duties he was stuck with.

In a meeting with Dumbledore during the first week of classes, Dumbledore had heartily congratulated Draco and Granger on their new positions, then proceeded to lay down a laundry list of responsibilities that they would be forced to complete. Two meetings a week, one for just the Heads, and one for the Heads presiding over the Prefects. Organizing and enforcing patrols. Heading a student disciplinary committee. An outreach program to make sure the first years were adjusting to life at Hogwarts. Planning any and all school functions, including Hogsmeade trips.

Draco had mentally calculated the number of hours he would lose each week and was horrified. This Head Boy business was going to put a damper on his social life if he didn't find a way to avoid the more menial tasks of the job.

Sneaking a glance at Granger, he saw her paying rapt attention and nodding at a constant tempo, like one of those irksome enchanted bobbleheads. _Well, it will be quite simple enough to skip the one-on-one Heads meeting, _Draco thought. _And then I can just laze about during the second meeting, while Granger charges on ahead. The only thing will serve real enjoyment will be presiding over the disciplinary committee and deciding upon punishments to give other students. But where are the other perks of this bloody job?_

"What are the perks?" Draco found himself interrupting whatever Dumbledore was still droning on about.

Granger shot him an outraged glance, but Dumbledore laughed heartily.

"Always cutting to the heart of matter, Mr. Malfoy! Well, each of you will have a private suite and bath that has a concealed entrance near the Great Hall, as well as a private entrance into your respective common rooms. There is also a separate Head common room that you can use as you please and many past Head Students have conducted the bulk of their meetings and planning sessions in there. It's located right down the hall from the Room of Requirement, and will accept both of the passwords you are currently using on your own rooms. Now back to tutoring program…"

Dumbledore had continued to blather about meaningless tasks then, but Draco had tuned him out. It was usually somewhat of a mystery where the Head Students lived, and Draco had heard many rumors that the two were forced to live together. Relieved to find this wasn't so, and delighted in the real perks of the job, Draco began to run through his mental catalogue of the seventh-year girls to try and decide which one would be the perfect one to christen his new private suite.

Now, of course, all hopes of avoiding the Head Girl were crushed. As he realized the horror of having to not only see Granger every day, but sit next to her and work with her, he slowly sought her out with his eyes. There she was, sitting towards the front of the classroom, staring at him with a look of horror frozen on her face.

At first, he was sure his look matched hers perfectly, but then as his emotions shifted from the initial shock to a righteous anger, he narrowed his eyes and glared evilly at her. Granger's eyes widened even more than they already were and a small squeak of dismay escaped her lips.

_Actually, this could have its benefits, _Draco thought evilly. _Tormenting Granger is a simple pleasure that I have not abused as much as in previous years. Besides, working with me in Potions will undoubtedly through her into a tizzy of extra studying, leaving me free to sneak ahead in other classes and placate Mother._

Draco returned his gaze to Snape and commented, "as Granger is so clearly lacking in **experience**, it would be a pleasure to share mine with her," matching his intonation from before perfectly.

The Slytherin half of the class snickered quietly, while Granger's face turned an unattractive shade of scarlet. Draco elegantly rose from his seat, collected his expensive dragonskin bag from the chair next to him and strode over to where Granger was seated. He swept into the chair next to her as if it was a throne.

"Silence, class!" Snape snapped as he returned his desk at the front of the room. The last remaining titters and giggles stopped abruptly. "Today I will be starting teaching lessons of actual substance and I can only hope that those of you still not up to speed from last year will confess this to your partners immediately, as I will not stand for incidents like last year."

Snape's gaze shifted and landed on the pathetic Neville Longbottom, who cowered in fear. Last year, the class was forced to spend three weeks studying medicinal potions in the Hospital Wing after Longbottom after the wanker had botched a Hiccupping Solution so badly, and then promptly spilled it on the floor, that no one could enter the Potions wing for that period of time without having a massive and dehabilitating case of hiccups. Dean Thomas, who had the misfortune of sitting with Longbottom, grimaced even as Neville shot him an apologetic look. Dean was being forced to sit with Longbottom, Draco noticed, because his best mate, Seamus Finnigan, had abandoned him for the eyelash-batting Lavender Brown, a choice morsel that Draco had sampled several times last year.

"Today you will get to know your new partner through the use of a potion commonly referred to as the 'Two Moons' potion. Can anyone tell me why this potion is called that, and what it does?"

Draco felt his hair ripple from its immaculate placement with a slight breeze as Granger's hand shot up in the air, narrowly missing his head. "Watch it, Mudblood…" he hissed through his teeth.

Draco could practically feel her awareness of him heighten, but she simply scooted her chair to left, widening the gap between them and continued to focus pointedly on Snape with her hand swaying in the air.

"Oh, Ms. Granger…what a surprise," Snape said sarcastically.

Granger lowered her hand and opened her mouth as if to answer, but then hesitated, not sure if Snape was simply mocking her or giving her the go-ahead to answer.

"Do you know the answer or don't you Ms. Granger? I haven't got all day." Snape commented.

Granger flushed scarlet for the second time in a matter of minutes, but the answer tumbled out of her mouth promptly in a rush of words. "It's commonly referred to as Two Moons, but is actually called Empatheia Rivalis and is generally used to help people come to a better understanding and a heightened awareness of each other. It was created by American Indian shamans and the name 'Two Moons' comes from the old Indian proverb that says, 'don't judge any man until you have walked two moons in his moccasins.'"

Snape stared critically at Granger. "Five points to Gryffindor," he said tersely, after a moment's pause.

"The instructions for Empatheia Rivalis begin on page 174 of your textbooks. It should take the majority of the period to create your potion. At the end of class, I will grade your work and if it is sufficient enough to be consumed without killing anything…" Here Snape paused again to glower at Neville, who had been the death of several toads last year after his potions had been inflicted upon them. "…then you shall each consume your work, and record the effects and what you have learned about your new partner in a 12 inch parchment to be due next class."

The entire class stared up in wonder at Snape, where he sat tapping his foot impatiently. It hadn't been until March of last year that they tried any of the potions they created on themselves, and that was after careful tests on toads and several practice runs. It was only the second week of school – was he trying to kill them?

"May I remind you, class, that you are in seventh year now. You are big boys and girls, capable of creating useable potions, I hope. And the more time you sit here stupidly, the more probable it is that your potion, and consequently, you, will fail." Snape paused a moment, and glared scornfully and the still stationary class.

"Get moving!" he barked.

Beside Draco, Granger jumped with a start, and scrambled to open her textbook, as most others in the class did. She thumbed through to the correct page, and began running her finger down the list of ingredients. Draco sat complacently by and began to examine his nails, waiting to see how long it would take for her to crack.

Granger stared at the page for several more minutes, jotting things down on a scrap of parchment sporadically. She seemed to be trying very hard to ignore Draco's presence, but finally she could bear it no longer.

"Malfoy!" Granger suddenly snapped, turning in her seat to glare at him.

"Yes, Granger?" Draco responded, a lazy smirk crossing his face.

"Are you planning on helping me or are you going to sit there on your bum and do nothing like a great big prat?" Granger's voice got louder and shriller as she finished the sentence.

"No need to get your knickers in a twist, Granger," Draco raised his eyebrows suggestively and leaned towards her. "What is it that you require my **expertise** for?"

"You absolute arse!" Granger shrieked and nearly tipped over her chair in an effort to stand up and scoot farther away from him.

"Now, now, Granger, no need to get flighty. We are, after all, working on a schedule."

"Fine." She snatched up the piece of parchment that she had been scribbling on and waved it in his direction.

"Words, Granger, use your words…" Draco couldn't believe how easy it was to rile her up. And how positively amusing it was to see her absolutely torn between maintaining her perfect marks and reputation and launching herself at him to claw his eyes out. It was a pity that she was she the pure "Gryffindor Princess," as well as being a Mudblood, and Pothead's friend, of course. He would never shag her on principle, but the fire in her eyes as she stared at him viciously just now indicated that with a good teacher, she could become an utter wildcat in bed.

Draco was disturbed from his contemplations about the future sex life of Hermione Granger when the actual Granger shoved the piece of parchment she had been waving about in his face, very nearly giving him a paper-cut on his perfectly formed nose.

"Go. Get. The. Ingredients." Granger said tightly.

Draco snatched the paper from where it had fallen in his lap and made a tsk-ing sound.

"All you had to do was ask."

Three-quarters through the class period the cauldron that stood on the table between the Head Students was simmering nicely. There were only two ingredients left to add, and the final incantation to perform.

"If you have brewed your potion correctly so far, your potion should be light blue in color and you should still have two ingredients left to add." Snape roamed the room, making comments here and there, sometimes to assist, sometimes to mock.

"For instance, Mr. Thomas, Mr. Longbottom, the fact that all of your ingredients are already in your cauldron will have intensified your potion to such an extent that had you drunk it, your private thoughts would be broadcast out loud so everyone can understand them."

Neville gulped and paled, while Dean turned a visible shade of green.

"Okay, okay, we need to add the crushed black walnut to ground us, stir clockwise 12 times, then add the horsetail for understanding," Granger muttered, reading the textbook.

She glanced hurriedly at the small clock she had enchanted to float above the cauldron.

"It has to be now! Malfoy, add the next ingredient or the whole thing will be rubbish!" Granger squealed.

Draco, who had once again been examining his nails, rather than listening to Granger flutter over the minutest details of their task, hastily grabbed the horsetail and tossed it into the cauldron.

"You need to lighten up, Granger. The best potions are never created by following each instruction exactly, but allowing the creative flair and genius of the wizard at work to emerge," Draco turned to Granger. "But I doubt your limited **experience** makes you too mechanical to truly rise above average."

"Malfoy…" Rather than seeming irritated with Draco or being embarrassed as he once again pointed out her prudishness, Granger sounded oddly frightened. In fact, her voice came out as barely more than a whisper.

"Look," Granger whispered again and this time Draco turned his head towards the cauldron. The potion, which was still correctly shaded a pale blue, had begun to bubble menacingly.

"Maybe we should get Snape," Granger whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Draco demanded. "There's probably nothing wrong, it's probably supposed to do that."

"We should just check and make sure, there's nothing wrong with that," Granger whispered, eyes still fixed to the potion, which had now begun to hiss quietly.

"I refuse to ask for help when my potion is clearly fine. I don't make mistakes, and unless you are confessing that you did, I won't let you even attempt to put my skills into question," Draco responded snootily.

The cauldron had now taken on a foamy quality, rather different from the clear robin-egg's blue it had been before. Along with the bubbling and the hissing, it now began to emit a heavy blue-ish fog.

"What is going on back there?" Snape shouted as he began to stride over briskly from the behind his desk in the front of the room.

"Look out!" Granger suddenly shrieked and all at once she was lunging at Draco, who was staring at the quivering foamy wave that had arisen from the cauldron and was headed directly towards them.

As Granger collided with Draco with a audible "oomph" the two began to fall sideways, but not as quickly as the foamy tidal wave that engulfed them as they landed on the floor.


	3. Bubbles and Blobs

**A/N: Thanks so much ****kris x emergency**** and ****blackrose4ever**** for reviewing! I meant to put this chapter up yesterday, but I got totally distracted by the HP movie marathon on ABC Family! :) Anyway, enjoy!**

Hermione saw the blue tidal wave rise out of the cauldron first. Her initial reaction was a mind-numbing horror that she had actually botched up a potion assignment. Visions of humiliation at the hands of Snape, followed rapidly by images of receiving a "T" on her exams, as well as flunking completely out of Hogwarts and having to return to the Muggle world flashed before her eyes.

At the same time, Hermione logically concluded that she had no idea what the potion would do now that it had gotten out of control. It was most likely Malfoy's fault that something had gone wrong, but she had no way of knowing that for sure. For that matter, even if Malfoy's stupidity and incredibly overblown cockiness had caused this problem, he probably did not deserve whatever this rather lethal-looking wave was about to dish out. Even with their intense rivalry, Hermione still felt morally bound to avert whatever was about to befall Malfoy.

And clearly, Malfoy had no idea what was about to fall on him. He was still turning up his nose at her, and spouting off some ridiculous justification about how his potion was just fine. Snape was still too far away to be of any help and none of the other students had noticed the situation yet either. She would just have to take matter into her own hands.

All of these thoughts – the fears, accusations, rationalizations, and decisions – hit Hermione with a split second lightening bolt of clarity, and shortly after, the words "Look out!" tore out of her throat. Hermione then did the only thing that seemed to have a hope of saving either of them – she lunged at Malfoy, hoping that her momentum would be enough to knock them out of the way of the incoming deluge of blue potion.

As Hermione collided with the hard planes of Malfoy's body, she emitted an audible "oomph." He tore his eyes away from the blue wave he had only just managed to notice and locked eyes with her. The swirling pools of silver had been filled with shock and fear, but now they conveyed a surprise and kind of awe in her actions as he stared into her own hazel eyes. She wasn't certain what kind of message her eyes were sending back to him, but there wasn't really much time to worry about that as they were rapidly approaching the floor.

The first thing to hit the floor was Malfoy's head, and it hit with a sickening "crack" that seemed to fill Hermione's whole world. His eyes, which had been staring into hers for one of the longest and shortest moments of her life, were slammed shut in a grimace of pains. In rapid fashion, the rest of their entangled limbs landed with painful thuds on the tiled floor. In another one of those lightening fast moments Hermione realized with dread that they were still in the path of the wave. Sure enough, the next sensation she felt was a foamy coolness engulfing her and in exhaustion of the hard work her brain and body had done in the last five seconds, she closed her eyes and let it overtake her.

When Hermione reopened her eyes, it was if she was viewing the world through a giant bubble. She realized with a start that it was because she actually was in a giant bubble. She sat up and quickly realized from the bed she was in and the gown that she was wearing that she must be in the Hospital Wing. She strained to look through the translucent material, but all she could make out were a couple of shadowy blobs that were standing about a yard away.

Suddenly, one of the blobs jumped towards her, and cried out, "Look! She's awake!"

Hermione wasn't able to place the voice, but overwhelming sense of relief overcame her. She was fine, her friends were here for her, and perhaps this incident would even be grounds to get her switched away from Malfoy to another partner. Happily, she waved to the two blobs that were approaching her from outside the bubble.

"Why am I in here?" she asked.

"We're so glad you're alright, Hermione," the same blob that had spoken before said. "You've only been out for a couple of hours."

Hermione squinted her eyes to try and make out more distinguishable features. Was that Harry? Or was it Ron?

"Yeah, and I reckon we won't have to have potions for a good bit of time now. That foamy junk was beginning to take over the room as Snape levitated you out," another voice said happily.

Well, that was more likely Ron as he detested Potions far more than Harry did, but she wasn't positive. And Hermione was beginning to worry. Why weren't they answering her question about the bubble? A seed of worry began to sprout deep in the pit of her stomach. What if she wasn't alright? What if she had been infected with some terrible disease and was trapped in this bubble for the rest of her life? All because she had the stupid moral fiber (a phrase quite often tossed about by the Golden Trio since that ridiculous incident fourth year) to go and try to save Malfoy.

"WHY AM I IN THIS BUBBLE?" she screamed as loudly as she could, waving her arms for added effect.

"Look, she's so excited to see us!" exclaimed the Snape and potion-hating blob.

"Don't be thick. She clearly wants to know why she's trapped in that bloody bubble," the other blob said, shoving the first for good measure.

"Herms never was very good at charades," the second blob chortled.

Hermione strained harder to see who the blob was, but it seemed like the bubble was getting foggier instead of clearer. Ron certainly knew better than to call her Herms; he had tried once in second year and regretted it soon after. Harry wasn't much for nicknames, but he frequently called her Mione after Ron had discovered that was the only other thing besides her full name that she would respond to.

"Madame Pomfrey said the foam was getting into your skin and bubble, well, it's called a VacuBubble because it sucks all the foam out of your skin and absorbs it into the bubble. It's apparently the quickest way to decontaminate you although unfortunately soundproof from your end, but Pomfrey said you were lucky that the actual potion didn't actually do anything to you," said Blob One (as Hermione had oh-so-creatively deemed them).

"Well, if you call being covered in blue foam nothing," Blob Two replied. "But you are lucky that the potion didn't do anything else. Can you imagine being stuck permanently 'understanding' that stupid git? What if you got stuck on the same brainwave as him, and you could read each other's minds or something awful like that?"

Hermione shuddered at the thought of something permanently linking her Malfoy. She turned away empathetically, hoping to convey her distaste with the subject.

"Stop it," Blob Two ordered. "The thought of Draco obviously scares the daylights out of her. But there are a few more things to tell you, Hermione. The VacuBubble started out transparent, but as the bubble absorbs the foam it will be harder and harder to see out of it. Pomfrey said that once it was completely blue that you'll be foam-free and they'll let you out," Blob Two finished.

As if speaking her name had conjured her up, a taller third blob suddenly appeared which Hermione quickly identified as Madame Pomfrey when she began to speak.

"Why didn't you come and get me when she woke up?" she demanded of Blob One and Two. "I was very explicit in saying that you could only stay if you alerted me when Mr. Granger and Ms. Malfoy woke up! Now shoo, popping a VacuBubble can be a messy business," Pomfrey scolded.

Hermione gestured dramatically, trying to get Blob One and Two's attention, but they were backing away from Pomfrey and towards the Hospital Wing doors. And had Pomfrey said popping? Surely popping this bubble in on her would just get her covered in the blue foam all over again.

"Listen up, Ms. Malfoy," Pomfrey said, rapping on the bubble sharply.

Now that was especially odd. Madame Pomfrey was usually excellent with names and faces, although Hermione supposed now that the bubble was turning more and more blue that Pomfrey couldn't really see her face. And Malfoy was in the same condition as her, at least Hermione assumed he was. But she had said Ms. and not Mr…

"Before I can pop the bubble, you need to put on the special suit that I have placed at the end of your bed. If your friends had been more prudent in alerting me to your consciousness, I would have more time to explain the procedure to you, but all you really need to do is put the suit on and make sure it is zipped up fully and no part of your skin is left exposed, or we will have to start the whole process over again. Once the VacuBubble is ready to be popped, the buttons on the forearms of the suit will begin to beep and flash red. This is to alert you, as you will no longer be able to see me."

As Pomfrey said this, Hermione realized that she could barely see anything outside the blue haze of the bubble. What if the bubble popped before she was in the suit? In panic, she grabbed frantically at the edge of her bed until she located a brownish garment that looked rather like a wetsuit. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She felt confident that she would be able to put it on correctly, as she had plenty of experience wearing wetsuits when her family when scuba-diving on the summer holidays.

"To make sure the bubble does not pop before you are ready, you must press both buttons firmly at the same time," Pomfrey finished.

Feeling quite silly at her sudden burst of panic, Hermione felt comforted by reminded herself that she had had quite a trying day and hers nerves were shot. She put the suit on with ease, and by the time she had double-checked to make sure everything was zipped properly, the arms were flashing and beeping pleasantly. She crossed her arms and pressed down firmly on the buttons, closing her eyes nervously. Whatever was going to happen next, Hermione wasn't particularly interested in seeing.

Only seconds later, she heard a loud crack and then someone tapped her on the shoulder. She opened her eyes to find Madame Pomfrey, wearing an identical suit grinning happily, which was rare for the usually reserved mediwitch.

"That's the first time the VacuBubble has worked properly. Normally, the aftermath of popping it is quite a doozy to clean up after," she commented cheerfully while helping Hermione out of bed.

"Now, you be allowed to return to your room, but I've asked Dumbledore to select two of your friends to assist you in getting there and also to spend the night to monitor you in case any odd symptoms that we hadn't detected before pop up. Your friends already brought you some other clothes, so you might as well get changed before they come back."

Hermione went into the bathroom and changed into her favorite pair of sweats that the Blobs (even though she knew it was Harry and Ron, she was still having a good time calling them that, and she imagined it would be a pet name that she would stick them with for awhile) had brought her. She was pleasantly surprised that the clothes they brought her were what she would have chosen for herself – normally Harry and Ron couldn't even match a shirt to a pair of pants to save their lives.

As she exited the bathroom, she noticed Ron and Harry come in, followed closely by Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode. Hermione waved excitedly to the boys and began walking briskly towards them. However, she stopped short when they seemed to look straight past her. Harry suddenly caught her gaze and she waved again, but more tentatively. _Just what exactly was wrong with the boys?_ she wondered. Harry gave her a strange look and turned to whisper to Ron. Ron turned and looked at Hermione, but when their eyes locked, he turned his head away as if the eye contact had burned him. The two boys continued to walk with their heads close together, whispering, toward the back of the hospital wing. Hermione's eyes followed their retreating figures with heavy tears forming in her eyes. _What in Circe's name was going on here?_

As she turned her head back, she jumped slightly as there were now two girls standing in front of her, two girls that if that had decided to talk to her were certainly up to no good: Pansy and Millicent.

"Sorry it took so long for me to come back," Pansy apologized. "After Pomfrey kicked me and Blaise out, I went back to the common room, but then Snape said I had to see Dumbledore, so I had to go all the way up there, and then Dumbledore said me and Daphne needed to stay with you all night to make sure you're okay, so I went down the common room to find her, but then I remembered she's doing that all-day Herbology lab, so I was just going to come alone, but then Millie volunteered to come along…" at this point in her narrative Pansy paused to glare at the shorter girl that was beaming at Hermione obliviously.

"…and then we got half way here and realized we didn't have our overnight stuff so we had to go back to the common room AGAIN, and then we finally came here and we can go to your room, which I just realized that I've not even seen yet because you've been so busy!" she finished breathlessly.

"Um," Hermione said nervously.

" Merlin!" Pansy squealed. "I can hear your voice! You're okay!" With that she launched herself at Hermione and began to squeeze her in a tight hug while bouncing up and down simultaneously.

"Madame Pomfrey," Hermione mumbled faintly, while Pansy continued to jostle her up and down and Millicent patted Hermione's shoulder repeatedly.

Clearly, this was one of those odd symptoms that Pomfrey had been talking about. Maybe instead of understanding Malfoy, now she could understand his friends? Or she could understand Malfoy through his friends? Whatever it was, something magical was certainly going on. And hopefully whatever it was would also explain the cold shoulder she had just received from Harry and Ron as well.

"What did you say?" Pansy asked, finally releasing her.

Hermione was opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Madame Pomfrey who had strode up to her, and was once again tapping Hermione on the shoulder.

"You forgot your wand, Ms. Malfoy," Pomfrey said, extending her wand to her. "Now you best return to your room and get some rest. I released you from the Hospital Wing only with Dumbledore's strong assurance that these girls would watch over you, so they best begin doing their duty," she said, staring pointedly at Pansy.

"Yes, ma'am," Pansy nodded. "We'll get going straight away." She reached for Hermione's arm and began to guide her towards the doors.

"Wait!" she cried. "My name isn't Malfoy."

Pansy turned to stare at her. "What?"

"My name is Hermione Granger," she insisted loudly.

"Oh dear," Madame Pomfrey, who had been returning to the back of the Hospital Wing was back at Hermione's side. "Clearly there are side effects that I did not detect before. Perhaps…Hermione…should stay another night," she said carefully.

"She's fine," Pansy exclaimed, taking another step towards the door. All that's wrong is she can't tell the difference between her name and Draco's. If anything else is wrong, I'd notice first. I'm her best mate anyway."

Hermione turned to stare at the thin dark-haired girl that was still clutching her wrist protectively. _This is so bad. This is so so so bad._

"Can you tell me Draco's last name, dear?" Pomfrey questioned kindly.

"My name is Hermione Granger. My idiot potions partner is Draco Malfoy," Hermione said confidently.

Madame Pomfrey frowned and shook her head.

"See?" Pansy said. "She's just mixing up their last names, that's all. I'll explain what happened to her as soon as we get back to the room." Pansy smiled sweetly at Madame Pomfrey while slowly began to back Hermione up towards the door.

"I suppose," said Pomfrey, "but you alert me if Ms. Malfoy becomes confused about anything else."

"But…" Hermione couldn't think clearly.

What should she do now? If even Madame Pomfrey was under the impression that her name was Hermione Malfoy, then whatever was wrong with her was certainly of bigger proportions that a name change or Hermione suddenly "understanding" Malfoy's – or was it Granger now? – friends. However, protesting seemed to be fruitless at this point. Perhaps after a good night's sleep things would go back to normal. And if not, after a good night's sleep she would be ready to do some serious research to figure out how to put things back to rights. Mind made up, Hermione allowed Pansy to continue leading her out of the Hospital Wing.


	4. Bosom Buddies

**A/N: Thanks to ellesra and LexiMalfoy for reviewing, and thanks to all who added this story to their favorites or story alerts. It used to always annoy me when I read fics where people would beg for reviews, but now I totally understand. I'm not begging, but I am asking nicely…any input or comments (even flames!) would be appreciated, just to know people are actually reading this. **

**Anyhoo, this chapter will be told from Ginny's perspective, just to give you an idea of the kind of world Draco and Hermione are stepping into. The next chapter will be told from Pansy's perspective to give some more background.**

**Finally, mucho mucho thanks to SolarGuardianChick, who gave me much needed advice about how to proceed next. And to answer her questions, the details of what exactly the potion did to Draco and Hermione will be coming soon. Also, there was a clue to what went wrong with the potion in the second chapter…see if you can find it.**

**Well, this has been long enough – on with the story!**

Draco was unconscious and Ginny Weasly was simply beside herself. It wasn't like this was her first time to be sitting besides his bed in the Hospital Wing – the famed Golden Trio of Gryffindor had gotten themselves into numerous scrapes over the years, consequently landing them in the Hospital Wing at almost regular intervals. Ginny ended up being the de facto bed-sitter, so much so that she kept a bag packed next her bed with all the necessities for spending nights in the uncomfortable chairs that sat next to the hospital beds.

Although the Trio frequently excluded her, especially when it came to adventure they deemed too "dangerous" for her, Ginny knew that she was the closest friend the three boys had besides each other. Originally, they hadn't taken much notice of her at all, but after the whole Chamber of Secrets debacle during Ginny's first year, they began to treat her as more of a younger sister. (Obviously, she was actually was Ron's sister…) Ron sometimes seemed irritated to have his younger sister tagging along, but Harry seemed to genuinely appreciate her and took great delight in alternately teasing her and being affectionate with her.

Then there was Draco Granger. Ginny and he had a special bond that was separate from other two thirds of the Golden Trio. While Harry and Ron still bumbled on without much knowledge of the opposite sex (each held claim to the disastrous ruins of one relationship, Cho Chang and Lavender Brown, respectively), Draco had been obsessed with girls as long as Ginny had known him. She had always assumed that he had just "had a way with the ladies" or whatever the phrase was, or perhaps he had Muggle friends back home that had taught him all he knew about girls.

So it took Ginny quite by surprise to discover that while Draco may have loved girls, he had not the foggiest idea of what to do once he actually got one. During Ginny's third year, Draco had urgently pulled her into a deserted corner of the Gryffindor common room and whispered to her with a rather frenzied look in his eye.

"Susan's birthday is next week."

Ginny had stared blankly at him, trying to comprehend what this random factoid had to do with her. Thinking hard, she finally remembered that Susan Bones was the girl that Draco was currently mooning over.

"And…" she prompted.

"Well, I finally asked her out yesterday and now her mates just came up to me and told me her birthday's next week," Draco whispered. "Do I have to get her a present when we've only been going out a week? And for that matter, what kind of present to you give to a girlfriend of one week?"

Ginny stared at him again, then burst into giggles. "You're…coming…to me…with…GIRL…troubles?" she managed to ask while still laughing hysterically.

"Shhh!" Draco covered her mouth with his hand and then glanced around furtively to make sure no one had heard. Several people in the common room were now staring at Draco and Ginny, who was still shaking with silent laughter. Draco fixed them with a piercing glare and they all hastily turned back to what they were doing before – when he wanted to be, Draco could be downright menacing and scary.

"Yes, I am. Now, can you help me or not?" he demanded in a whisper. Although he looked slightly pissed off at her, he also looked so flustered about the idea of picking out a present for a girl that Ginny had taken pity on him and immediately helped him out.

From then on, whenever the need to talk romance arose, Draco always consulted Ginny. Although her expert advice of a Weird Sisters CD and some Susan's favorite Muggle candy only prolonged the relationship for another three weeks, Ginny had been Draco's confidante for the past three years. Eventually, Harry and Ron had noticed their whispering and passed notes and found out about their secret meetings. At first they had been upset to realize that Draco was sharing things with Ginny that he rarely shared with them, but after admitting their ineptitude with the fairer sex they were accepting of the pair's special bond and laughingly called them "bosom buddies."

So when the news that Draco and Hermione had been rushed to the Hospital Wing began to filter through the hallways, Ginny had scrambled up to her room to grab her overnight bag and then back to the Hospital Wing, which she had reached right on the heels of Harry and Ron, as well as Hermione's friends, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. Madame Pomfrey had immediately admitted Blaise and Pansy, reminding them to notify her when Hermione woke up, but when Ginny, Ron, and Harry had tried to follow them into the Hospital Wing, Pomfrey had stopped them short.

"It could be hours before Draco awakens, my dears, and I believe you boys have something else better to be doing while you wait," Pomfrey lowered her voice and winked conspiratorially. For all her bellowing about the dangers of Quidditch, Madame Pomfrey was secretly an avid fan, which Harry had discovered after one particularly nasty incident with a Bludger during a practice the previous year.

"We do have that game against Hufflepuff next weekend," Ron mumbled.

"We'll come back straight away after practice, alright?" Harry had looked at Ginny, who nodded reassuringly and then allowed himself to be dragged off by Ron in the direction of the Quidditch pitch.

Pomfrey turned to reenter the Hospital Wing, but then noticed Ginny, who was standing firmly in front of the doors with the beginning of teardrops forming in her eyes. She softened visibly and patted Ginny on the shoulder.

"You can come in, but you mustn't disturb my other patients," Pomfrey cautioned.

So now Ginny sat alone in the uncomfortable chair, watching the bruise that was starting to slowly swell on Draco's brow. Ginny sighed. At least, Draco was in-between girlfriends and there was no nattering fluff-brained girl fussing over him and bothering Ginny to pieces. Not that the girlfriend would have been able to fuss much, as Draco was incased in the VacuBubble – one that had yet to be activated because of Draco's comatose state.

Ginny glanced across the way to where Hermione Malfoy's VacuBubble was beginning to take on a bluish tint. Pansy and Blaise were standing next to it, and chatting happily to Hermione, whose form was murkily visible through the bubble. Ginny felt a swell of anger rise in her chest. Ron and Harry had told her that when the accident in the Potions room had happened, Hermione had knocked over Draco in her own selfish attempt to flee from the looming rogue potion that was probably her fault in the first place. Now, Hermione was being decontaminated by her VacuBubble, and could be merrily on her way in a matter of hours, while it was no telling how long it would be before Draco would awake.

Finally, after what seemed like ages of alternately gazing at the motionless Draco and glaring in disgust at the darkening blue orb at the other end of the room, Ginny noticed Madame Pomfrey stride briskly over to Hermione's bedside. After making some threatening noises and gestures, Blaise and Pansy went scurrying out the door. Ginny watched with interest as Pomfrey instructed Hermione on the use of the VacuBubble, and then proceeded to expertly pop it. Ginny had never seen a VacuBubble in action before and while the sight of a blemish and scratch-free Hermione Malfoy did fill her with disgust, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the procedure. Hermione exited towards the bathroom on wobbly legs with a bundle of clothes in her arms. After ages more (primping, no doubt, Ginny thought derisively), Hermione exited the bathroom at the same instant that Ron and Harry came in the Hospital Wing, closely followed by the return of Pansy as well as Millicent Bulstrode.

Ginny stood up to alert the boys to her location and then noticed that Hermione was waving at them. Hermione Malfoy. Waving. At Harry and Ron. Clearly, the boys were as bewildered by this as Ginny was, as they nudged each and began whispering in hushed tones as they continued past Hermione and towards Ginny.

"What in the bloody hell is up with her?" Ron demanded as soon as he reached Ginny's side.

"Like I know," Ginny responded irritably, tearing her eyes away the even more curious scene of Hermione greeting her squealing and joyous friends by backing away apprehensively. "Why are you blokes here, anyway? Practice shouldn't be done for another half hour or so."

"We got a message from Dumbledore about assisting Draco back to his room and staying the night with him to make sure he's okay," Harry said, poking the VacuBubble experimentally. "Apparently, he hadn't gotten the memo that good ole Drake is still all…bubbly."

"Yeah, well, if Hermione hadn't knocked his head into the floor, maybe he'd be up and about by now," Ginny said bitterly.

"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed, pressing his head against the VacuBubble to get a better look at the angry-looking bruise that was still spreading across Draco's forehead. "She's a right tiny bint to be able to do that much damage."

"What do you expect?" Ginny was surprised at the emotion building in her voice. She was able to control her worry when she was alone, but now with Ron and Harry here, she could feel her concern for Draco threatening to spill out of her in the form of tears.

"I mean, Hermione is clearly evil," she continued, lowering her voice. "We know her dad is a Death Eater, and she's probably training to be one too…her and all her precious 'playgroup,'" Ginny finished scathingly.

"My name is Hermione Granger. My idiot potions partner is Draco Malfoy," Hermione's voice floated over to their end of the Hospital Wing.

Immediately, Ginny, Ron, and Harry turned to look at Hermione with wide eyes. Pansy was clutching her arm and dragging her towards the door, while a concerned Madame Pomfrey hovered after them.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" Harry looked back at Ron and Ginny.

"I guess we won't know for sure until Draco wakes up," Ginny said slowly. "But maybe Drake wasn't the only one who bumped his head."


	5. Pureblood Playgroup

**A/N: Thanks to all the people who reviewed the last chapter! This chapter, like I mentioned earlier, is told pretty much from the perspective of Pansy, so the readers can get a clue of what Hermione was like in this world. I've added some physical and personality details about the main Slytherins I'll be using, and while it's not canon, I wanted to use people like Daphne and Theo and give them a more fleshed-out character. Sorry if you don't like the way I do it, but that's just the way the cookie crumbles. ;) On with the show!**

Pansy was worried. While she had adamantly and repeatedly told Madame Pomfrey that Hermione was perfectly fine, her protestations had stemmed from a desire to get Hermione back to her Head Suite and away from the foul Hospital Wing, rather than an actual belief in Hermione's well-being. At first, she was just overjoyed that the prissy Granger boy hadn't permanently damaged her best mate, but as she began to speak with Hermione she had noticed there was something wrong with her. Sure, she was fine phsyically - the few scratches and bruises she had obtained from her collision with the hard Potion floor were easily fixed - but it was her best friend's mental state that concerned Pansy.

The two girls had been friends for as long as Pansy could remember. Purebloods were notorious for being extremely selective about the company they kept and so the Parkinsons and the Malfoys had foisted Pansy and Hermione on each other while they were still in diapers. However, this occasionally turned out to be something regretted by their respective parents as Pansy and Hermione quickly became joined at the hip. The girls were famous among the elite wizarding circles as being rich and spoiled, quick to get into trouble, and even quicker to twist their way out of it.

While Hermione and Pansy were inseparable, they were also rarely seen without their close-knit group of friends, which included Daphne Greengrass, Theo Nott, and Blaise Zabini. They had all been coaxed together by their parents, but stayed together out of choice. Other young witches and wizards that were nudged by their parents to try and intrude on their little world - the persistently annoying Millicent Bulstrode and the idiotic duo of Crabbe and Goyle - were coldly shut out. The group of five privately referred to themselves as the Pureblood Playgroup, a derisive jab at the parents whose views the five friends found to be utterly ridiculous.

Yes, that was the big secret that the five friends were hiding. It was rather ironic that the rest of Hogwarts labeled them as most likely to be Death Eaters-in-training, but the reality was they were practically the only Slytherin students that opposed the Dark Lord. No one knew, of course, except for Dumbledore (the ever practical Hermione had convinced the others to tell him in their third year), and they liked to keep it that way. They argued quite enthusiastically over the reasons why sometimes - privacy, not upsetting the parents, not getting killed, the potential for usefulness as a spy later on (that was just Theo, he was the most vehement about his anti-Voldemort beliefs) - but they all agreed to keep it a secret.

It had been so long that they had kept this secret that it was hard for Pansy to remember where it started sometimes. Her and Hermione had been at the beginning of it all, just like they were the beginning for everything else. One evening, they had been looking for Hermione's birthday presents and they had gotten the bright idea to look in the dungeons of the Malfoy estate. It was practically the only area of the house off-limits to Hermione, so she had reasoned it would be the perfect spot to look. They had crept down the stairs and around the first table was a stack of books. Hermione had been a bookworm for the instant she learned to read so the girls had glanced at each other excitedly and then rushed over to open the front cover.

It was only seconds after that Pansy was holding Hermione's long, curly tresses and patting her back soothing as she vomited in a corner on the cool stone floor. While she had a stronger stomach, Pansy herself was still shaking, the grotesque animated pictures from the book dancing before her eyes. As soon as she had recovered properly, Hermione had bolted to go back up the stairs, but Pansy had grabbed her hand and motioned her over to help and adjust the books back to their original position. The big black words "1001 Ways to Skin a Muggle" that they had so obviously missed the first time now glared menacingly at them.

That had been the original crack in the duo's whole life philosophy, but it wasn't until many long conversations later that they came out firmly opposed to the whole business. It was the little things only noticed by close friends that brought Daphne, Theo, and Blaise into their circle. Daphne was the first: she had questioned Pansy and Hermione on the discrepancy of their usage of the word Mudblood so liberally in public, but never in private. She confessed that she agreed with their views, but refused to mention how she came to that way of thinking.

Once the girls had spent a sufficient amount of time whispering together, the boys had then confronted them as well. Blaise's mother was rather neutral on the whole "good vs evil" debate - she simply preferred the purebloods because they were the generally the most elite and rich level of wizarding society - so Blaise was already fairly open-minded. Theo had actually witnessed the torture and murder of a old homeless Muggle man at the hands of his father and drinking buddies and had been completely disgusted by it. While he was often stoic and quiet about his beliefs, he was the most open about believing that Voldemort was truly wrong. The others felt it too, deep inside, but they preferred to joke about how they were just being rebellious teenagers and tell Theo he was acting too Gryff-y for their tastes.

Besides the tiny bit about defying generations of their heritage, Pansy, Hermione, Daphne, Theo, and Blaise were perfect Slytherins. They delighted in being devious and cunning, often indulging in practical joke wars that sometimes turned cruel. While they loved to party, they also prided themselves on being very intelligent and all of them received top marks on a regular basis. They were also a fairly affectionate group and a result had all snogged each other (sometimes drunk, sometimes sober) at least once. Currently, none of them were involved with each other, but the past relationships never made them less comfortable with each other either.

Even if their lives hadn't been as fabulous as they actually were (what with the never-ending joke wars, the opulent parties, and the constant relationship drama), the other students probably would have continued to be fascinated with them simply because of the way they looked. It was indisputable that the five friends were not only rich, but incredibly attractive. Hermione was a classic beauty, with large hazel eyes, a petite but perfectly formed mouth, and waves of rich brown hair that sparkled and changed colors in the light. Pansy was more dark and mysterious, with glossy raven black hair that stretched endlessly down her back. Her trademark was a crimson lipstick that left all the boys, and a few girls, staring entranced at her lips. Daphne was a leggy strawberry-blond and was definitely the most flamboyant of the group. She could be counted on to were jewelry so bizarre it approached Luna Lovegood range, yet hers always appeared heartbreakingly fabulous and walletbreakingly expensive.

As for the boys, Theo was tall and thin, but anyone who had the good fortune to see him in his swim trunks knew he wasn't lacking in the muscles department. His hair, a shade in-between Hermione's and Pansy's frequently fell in his cornflower blue eyes; that combined with his quiet nature and every-present notebook gave him an angsty, tortured appeal that drove girls wild. However, where Theo rarely took notice of the girls that fawned over him from afar (not to say he didn't do his fair share of snogging), Blaise definitely noticed the ladies and they noticed him right back. He was of medium build, but between the perfect creamy mocha color of his skin, the chocolate brown eyes, and the killer six-pack, Blaise was handsome enough to be a supermodel. And he did model on occasion, much to the delight of his mates, who loved to tease him and shove copies of the idiotic ad campaigns in his bookbag when he wasn't looking.

As they neared the Head Girl rooms, Pansy yanked herself out thoughts of her friends to consider the stranger whose arm she was still tugging on. It was as if an impostor had taken over Hermione's body. To a stranger, she would seem completely normal, but to someone like Pansy, who knew Hermione almost better than she knew herself, something was definitely amiss. She couldn't put her finger on what it was exactly that was different - she seemed less sure of herself, and there was a innocence about her that wasn't usually there.

They came to an abrupt halt in front of the Slytherin crest with the letters "H.G." embossed over the top that served as the entrance to Hermione's room. Pansy was confronted directly confronted with the worst difference of all: the way Hermione was now looking at her made it seem like she had never really seen Pansy before or was surprised to see her now. It was as if their many years of history and shared experiences had been completely and utterly erased.

"You know who I am right? You don't have, like, amnesia, do you?" Pansy blurted out, letting her hand drop from Hermione's wrist.

"What?" Hermione asked blankly.

"Am. Knees. Eee. Ahh." Pansy enunciated slowly.

"No," she replied curtly, then turned to face the crest again.

It was silent in the corridor for a moment, except for the heavy breathing of Millie, who had finally caught up after being drafted with the arduous task of carrying Pansy's overnight bag (makeup and products galore) and Hermione's bookbag (heavy tomes galore). Millie was an awful kiss-up, but she also had the good sense to remain silent as she finally came to a halt slightly behind Pansy. However, that good sense only last a moment more before Millie's grating voice broke the quiet.

"I'm so excited we're having a sleepover! It'll be so much fun to be just us girls!"

"Shut it, Millie," Pansy snapped crossly. She spun to face the shorter girl and scowled. "Just get out of here. Daphne will be along in a bit and Hermione actually likes her."

Millie looked toward Hermione, but she was still staring intently at the doorway. She bit her lip as if she was about to cry.

"But...Dumbledore said..."

"That he wants people to watch over Hermione, not bug the bloody hell out her! Now, go before I feel like telling Crabbe about what you and Goyle have been up to this summer."

Pansy didn't even have real dirt on Millicent, but apparently she had been cheating on Crabbe as Millie dropped the bags on the floor and began running as fast as her stubby little legs could carry her in the other direction.

Pansy turned back towards Hermione with a customary "put-Millie-in-her-place" smirk on her face, but it faded quickly when she remembered the foreign way that Hermione had been looking at her.

"Erm."

Hermione had spoken quietly, still intently focused on the portrait. She then turned slowly to face Pansy.

"I don't know the password."

Pansy groaned inwardly. Of all the information she had to forget, it was this?

"I guess we can go to Dumbledore's office and ask him."

Pansy turned to trudge back down the hallway - where were all the kiss-arse first years eager to do her bidding when she needed them? - and was met with a squeal of delight.

"Pans! You saved our girl!"

Daphne reached over and enveloped Pansy in a tight hug. Pansy spit out the strawberry-blond curls that had flown in her mouth and tried to dislodge Daphne. Finally, she released Pansy and attacked Hermione instead.

"How are you doing babydoll? I heard that Granger git messed you up quite good. You look fine for someone that's been in the Hospital Wing, but I'm sure we'll have you back to absolutely ravishing in no time."

As Daphne stepped back from Hermione, still grinning, she finally noticed the odd look of unfamiliarity in Hermione's eye. Stepping back further to align herself with Pansy she smiled again at Hermione, this time more nervously.

"What's up with her?" she whispered in Pansy's ear.

"She's a tad disoriented. It's like she doesn't remember who we are. And in the Hospital Wing, she called herself Hermione Granger," Pansy whispered back.

"WHAT?" Daphne screeched. "She thinks she's married to that candy-arse bastard?"

Pansy clapped her hand over Daphne's mouth and glanced down the hall anxiously to see if anyone was approaching. Hermione gave no sign of even noticing their conversation and was tracing the Slytherin crest with her fingertips as if entranced by it.

"Perhaps we should discuss this in a more private area," Pansy muttered through gritted teeth.

"Well, let's go in Hermione's room then."

"She doesn't remember the password."

Daphne let out a throaty chuckle.

"That's no problem, darling, she told it to me yesterday."

"Why didn't she tell me?"

"How should I know?"

"I mean, I'm her best mate. Why would she tell you and not me?"

"Yes, yes, you're best friends...do you have to rub it in?"

"Oh, like you don't mind having Blaise and Theo to yourself half the time?"

"Calm yourself, Pansykins, she only told me so I could return that gorge green silk scarf I borrowed while she was in Ancient Runes."

"Fine. Can we just open the door now?"

"Certainly, darling."

Daphne swept back toward Hermione and tapped her on the shoulder.

"What say you we move this party inside, Miss Mione?"

Hermione stared at her again for a moment, then nodded briefly.

With a flourish, Daphne rapped on the Slytherin crest and loudly proclaimed, "Mudbloods suck!"

Pansy collapsed into a fit of giggles.

"Oh, that's just brill, Hermione. I love it!"

Pansy and Daphne each linked one arm with Hermione's and ushered her into the Head Girl suite. While they were doing it quite for fun, it also was necessary as Hermione felt as if she was frozen to the floor and her mouth formed the shape of a small, perfect "O."

**A/N: Did you like it? Hate it? Let me know with a review, pretty please! And don't worry, during the next chapter I'll be switching back to using Hermione's perspective...**


	6. Hermione Thinks Things Out

**A/N: This chapter has a little recap as Hermione tries to review what's happen to her and fit the puzzle pieces together. It also has a little justification/explanation for why Hermione's been out of sorts and not the usual brainy girl we all know and love. But, come on, wouldn't you be out of sorts if you're enemies started being all buddy-buddy?**

Hermione was a smart girl and normally prided herself on her remarkable intuitive and deductive powers. She was rather embarrassed with the way she had been acting so far in this odd and confusing situation - that is to say, completely un-intuitive, and non-deductive. She tried to reassure herself that few would act with total confidence when faced with first a bewildering medical condition and then a string of friends turned enemies and vice versa. But now that she had reached the safe, familiarity of her Head Girl room, albeit decorated with green and silver rather than the red and gold she remembered, her sense of logic seemed to gradually be returning to her.

She walked calmly to the large green leather chair that was nestled in the corner of the room and curled up to do some serious thinking about her situation. Pansy and Daphne were whispering heatedly in the corner, throwing secretive glances in her direction every few minutes. Hermione decided not to pay them any mind for the moment, they had been downright friendly so far, yet her hand still curled protectively around her wand in her robe pocket. She blew an errant curl out her face and sighed for dramatic effect. The first thing she should do, of course, was list all the facts she could gather before jumping to conclusions. The list Hermione came up with (in her head, parchment would surely draw unnecessary attention from the Slytherin girls) was as follows.

1. Draco and I were forced to be Potions partners. Then, while creating an Empatheia Rivalis potion, something went wrong and it exploded out of the cauldron. _Hermione couldn't for the life of her remember what had gone wrong with the potion. Hopefully, if she was able to study the potion recipe again in the near future it would come to her._

2. I woke up in the Hospital Wing being decontaminated from whatever effects that potion might have caused. While I was there, Madame Pomfrey called me Ms. Malfoy and the two people who came to visit me were not Ron and Harry, but Pansy and Blaise. When I actually saw Ron and Harry, they looked almost scared of me, and certainly pissed off. _Hermione could blow off the Pomfrey thing as a name mix-up, but a people mix-up worried her and made her think something more serious was at stake._

3. When I was ready to leave the Hospital Wing, it was Pansy and Millicent who came to get me, and now Daphne who let me in my room, saying I gave her the password. And they said Dumbledore asked them, which means everyone is being affected by this spell or whatever it is. _As the far-reaching implications of this began to settle on Hermione, she felt more justified in taking so long to overcome her moronic stupor._

4. The door to the Head Girl room has a Slytherin crest on it. Everything in the Head Girl room is green and silver. _This was more of a back-up fact to a pretty obvious conclusion she'd already reached, what with all the Slytherin people following her around._

Hermione felt reasonably confident with the facts that she had just presented to herself to now make a hypothesis about her situation. As best she could gather, the potion had backfired in some way that landed her in this alternate universe where she was a Slytherin and perhaps actually the female version of Malfoy. Everyone kept calling her Malfoy, anyway. This thought sparked two questions into her mind simultaneously, and although she would later feel embarrassed that they small amount of vanity she possessed had won out over her concern for other people, even ones as annoying as Draco Malfoy, Hermione jumped up from her seat and rushed to the bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, Hermione was comforted by the fact that the answer to her first question - if I am a Malfoy here, do I look like one? - had been no. She was still the same old Hermione...well, kind of. Hermione leaned into the mirror closer in fascination with her appearance. Her hair, normally bushy and wild, was still wild, but wild in a way that her mother would call "sexpot" hair. It was rather sleek and hint darker than normal, although some bushiness was beginning to spring up, a side-effect from spending the morning in the hospital wing, Hermione supposed. She also noticed that she was wearing makeup - mascara, eyeliner, eyeshadow, blush, lipstick, the whole works. As she brushed her hair out of her face to get a better look at her eyes (how much bigger and brighter they looked with makeup on!), she noticed a glint of red in the mirror.

Hermione held up her hand in shock. Her nails, normally bitten down to nubs and ink-stained were long and painted a fierce crimson. She then noticed the silver bracelet on her wrist, that had four small charms on it. Dangling her wrist in front of her face to get a closer look, she determined that two charms were both small silver letter "P"s, separated by a large, clear crystal and a round silver disk. Hermione let out a squeak when she realized that it wasn't a cheap crystal, but actually a large diamond! That was only further evidence for her hypothesis - everyone knew the Malfoys were loaded. While Hermione's own family was well-off, they certainly weren't wealthy enough for Hermione to wear diamond jewelry on a day-to-day basis.

Although Hermione generally considered herself to a be a practical and down-to-earth girl, she couldn't resist exiting the bathroom and practically sprinting to stand in front of the closet. She flung open the doors and gasped at the multitude of beautiful clothes and shoes that were jammed into the tiny closet. _Yeah, definitely loaded_, she thought to herself. She shut the doors with a happy sigh and then turned to walk curiously to the other end of the room where her bookshelf was located.

If seeing the closet had given her pleasure, the tall bookshelf practically gave her an orgasm. The number of books, the quality of the books, the number of rare texts and books she had often coveted before - all of them were here, lined up neatly and alphabetically. It took all of Hermione's control to back away slowly from the bookshelf and return to the green chair. After all, she still had some thinking to do, and she hadn't even really allowed herself to process that second question that came into her mind as the same time as the panicked- I-look-like-blond-ferret-boy one. As she backed away, she managed to tear her eyes away from the orgasm-inducing shelves and looked in the direction of Pansy and Daphne. They were still talking in whispers, but in a much calmer way.

Hermione lowered herself back into the chair. Now she was reasonably sure that in this alternate universe or whatever it was, she was the girl-version of Malfoy, a pure-blooded Slytherin. She supposed she was still the Head Girl only because Malfoy was the Head Boy in her own universe. Actually, if she thought about it harder, the Head Girl position could be of this own Slytherin Hermione's doing. It appeared that whoever she was here, her personality was still intact - the books were evidence of that - but she was simply the person she would have been if she was rich and pure-blooded.

Now she allowed her thoughts to return that troublesome question from before. What happened to Malfoy? Hermione was fairly positive that they had been dosed with roughly the same amount of Empatheia Rivalis, which would logically conclude that he was "Granger" here - the male version of her in the world. Although she had never hoped to spend more time with Malfoy in her life before, she certainly wished for it now. Having the companionship of someone else, even someone as horrid as Malfoy, in this strange world would certainly be more comforting than being utterly alone. As Hermione ran through her memories one more time, looking for clues to Malfoy's status here, she ran across the memory of Harry and Ron in the Hospital Wing. She hoped that their presence there indicated they had gone to see Malfoy, and that would certainly explain the strange looks they had given her.

Feeling slightly more comfortable with her surroundings, Hermione decided it was time to come up with a game plan. Obviously, the final object was to return home to her regular life. And to do that, she would have to figure out what went wrong with the potion. And to do that, she would have to find Malfoy, as he obviously was the one who had messed up the potion. So, that left her with her first objective: find Malfoy.

While Hermione knew that Malfoy was reasonably intelligent - he was second behind her in most of their classes - she also knew he was loud and brash and obnoxious. That meant he certainly couldn't be counted on to figure out what was going discreetly as Hermione herself had done. He would probably insult her friends - his friends, here - and draw a large amount of attention to himself insisting his name was Malfoy and whatnot.

This course of action had been thought of by Hermione, but several things had persuaded her to keep her mouth shut. First, Hermione had spent much time fighting Voldemort and his followers with Harry and Ron and being surrounded by Slytherins, no matter how friendly they acted, had persuaded her to keep her mouth shut at first. Information could be a powerful weapon. She was also reminded of "ripples," an idea often discussed on one of her favorite American Muggle TV shows (tragically canceled after only two seasons!). That is to say, Hermione always tried to be aware of how her actions affected those around her. She had no idea if the ripples from her coming here would be good or bad. For that matter, if she let everyone know who she was, she could change things so drastically that she would never be able to return home. So, even though she ached to go and beg Dumbledore for help, she instead tried to figure out how she would find Malfoy as discreetly as possible and maybe even repair any damage he had already caused.

A giggling Pansy and Daphne jolted Hermione out of her thoughts and back to reality. Talking to them and subtly gathering information about herself would be necessary if she hoped to navigate this world successfully. Hermione got up from the chair and walked towards the common room part of her suite. She sat on the couch adjacent to where the two other girls were and tried to summon all her knowledge of them so she could imitate their behaviors, hopefully close enough to the Hermione they knew.

"What a drag that was," she declared, trying to give her voice a superior tone. She gulped before continuing on with the only other statement she had quickly mapped out in her head. "That stupid Mudblood git ruined my Potions grade, and probably these robes, too."

Pansy and Daphne stared at her curiously. Pansy exchanged a look with Daphne, then moved to sit next to Hermione.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Pansy asked cautiously. "You seem a bit out sorts."

"She's not just out of sorts, Pansykins," Daphne half-snapped at the other girl. "There's no one around, sugarpie, you don't need to go using that disgusting word," she told Hermione kindly.

"Maybe I do have a bit of amnesia," Hermione forced a laugh, trying to sound self-deprecating. They thought Mudblood was a disgusting word? Maybe this world was so similar as she had originally assumed.

"Amnesia or not, there was no way we were letting you stay in the Hospital Wing any longer," Pansy reassured her.

"And I thank you for that. But everything is a bit hazy...perhaps you should tell me about myself, just to jog my memory," Hermione said carefully.

"Our smart girl!" Daphne exclaimed. "There's nothing wrong with her, but she still wants to take inventory just to double-check."

Both Daphne and Pansy began to laugh and Hermione tried to join in.

"Seriously, though. Tell me about me, I just want to make sure that I'm me and me is okay..." Hermione trailed off confusedly.

"Maybe she isn't okay, that was the worst Hermione-speak I've heard in years," Pansy said.

"It'll have to wait, Miss Mione, for we have a party to prepare for!" Daphne stood up.

"What?" Hermione stood, too, looking more confused.

"I told you she'd forget," Pansy chided Daphne. "With everything that happened today maybe we should just cancel."

"Pansy!" Daphne strode over and pulled the the dark-haired girl to her feet. "I am shocked by you, baby girl. Everyone knows Hermie is supposed to be the sensible one and even she loves our parties. Besides Beezie and Theodork are already on their way over to help us set up."

"Wait. We're having the party here?" Hermione asked.

"Look at your rooms, darling! They're primo real estate!" Daphne patted the shorter girl on the head thoughtfully. "Get that big brain back in gear soon, please. You're the best at setting up the anti-detection spells and we wouldn't want to get caught at only our first big bash of the year."

"Oye! Look at the time!" Pansy squealed. "If the boys are going to get here soon, we need to get ready before that."

Suddenly, Hermione found herself being dragged by both girls back towards the big bathroom. Although she couldn't suppress a mild excitement at getting to utilize the jam-packed closet so soon, Hermione was overwhelmed by anxiety and fear. Instead of learning about herself from these girls who deemed themselves her "best mates," locating Malfoy, and going home, it seemed like she would have to act like Slytherin Hermione at party that would certainly be a trial by fire. Also, who in Morgana's name were Beezie and Theodork?

**A/N: Bonus points if you know what TV show "ripples" are from. Also if you can guess who Daphne meant by Beezie and Theodork, but that one's a bit easier.**


	7. Party Time

**A/N: Eeeep! It seems like it's been forever since I lasted posted, but I've been all work and no play lately - working 50 hours a week does that to a person! Also, I realize that my last chapter was a bit on the boring side, so I've spent a lot of time on this chapter trying to make up for it. I'm also moving to an "M" rating now, just to be on the safe side, what with the debauchery and all. ;)  
**

**Also, the show I was referring to in the last chapter was Joan of Arcadia (love me some Chris Marquette!) and obviously, Beezie is BZ which is Blaise Zabini and Theodork is Theodore which is Theo Nott who is a dork. Tee hee. On with the show!**

If someone had come up to Hermione before this whole mess had began and told her that within 24 hours she would be not only attending, but hostessing one of the famously elite and secretive Slytherin parties, she would have no doubt laughed her head off. But now that she was here, Hermione was surprised at how easy she was finding it to adjust to her surroundings. While the idea of being around so many Slytherins still made her slightly antsy, the way they were all practically fawning over her and treating her like they were her best mate certainly soothed those fears.

As for the large amounts of excess and debauchery currently going on all around her, Hermione was trying to maintain a calm and collected exterior, but she was giddy on the inside. While she had been raised to be not very materialistic, she had always wondered what it would be like to be rich and fabulous. Hermione was the levelheaded one of the Golden Trio, she always pulled Harry and Ron to calmer and safer ground when they wanted to do something ridiculous. But that was a necessity - like it or not, the Boy Who Lived had a duty to the wizarding community to not be a huge party animal or get pissed until after he had defeated Voldemort.

The Slytherins here had no such worries. They were young and rich and beautiful and while they too might end up playing a part in the Wizarding War, their duties were nowhere near as pressing as those Harry and his friends faced. As she was now a Slytherin too, Hermione felt that if she could just loosen up a teeny tiny bit more, she just might be able to unleash her repressed wild child. Pansy's and Daphne's wild children were already in full swing. The two were standing on the small coffee table in the center of the common room, passing a bottle of firewhiskey between them and dancing suggestively to the loud music that was being pumped into the room.

The two girls were wearing matching dresses...Pansy in a dark sapphire blue that complimented her eyes and Daphne in a brilliant emerald green that set off her hair perfectly. Hermione glanced down at her dress, which also matched, but in a ruby hue, and giggled to herself at the irony of wearing red. When the girls had been getting ready for the party and searching through Hermione's massive closet, Pansy had pulled out the dresses squealing delightedly.

"Oooo, the new Griselda James line! This isn't supposed to come out until spring, you naughty girl!"

"I so love it when you're indecisive," Daphne added, tracing a finger along the satin-y material of all three jewel tones.

"You know what would be so fabbo? We should all wear them tonight, it would be a riot," Pansy said as she looked pleadingly at the other two girls.

"Match? We haven't matched in ages," Daphne snorted derisively.

Pansy pouted her crimson-stained lip and both girls turned to Hermione for the tie-breaking vote.

_Okay, think Slytherin, _Hermione coaxed herself inwardly as she glanced between the two girls.

"Only if I get the red one!" she finally shouted gleefully, grabbing for the expensive fabric. The pleased look on Pansy's face gave Hermione an almost euphoric happiness - why did she have girlfriends in her real life? It was so much fun!

Daphne, on the other hand sniffed daintily and handed the blue dress to Pansy, who grinned even wider. "I'll look the best in it anyway, darling."

And it was true. While the beautiful dresses (along with an hour of hair, make-up, and accessories, especially some particularly killer stilettos) looked hot on all three girls, the length of Daphne's legs made the dress seem daringly provocative then it looked on the more average height of Pansy and Hermione. As she contemplated the two dancing girls, Pansy finally noticed the direction of her stare.

"HERMIE!" Pansy shrieked at the top of her lungs, waving wildly for Hermione to come and join the girls on the wobbly table. Daphne also smiled in Hermione's direction and shook the half-empty bottle of firewhiskey in a beckoning gesture.

Hermione took one step forward before a tiny voice in her head halted her. _What are you doing? _the voice shrieked. _You should be trying to get home, not partying with a bunch of Slytherins! _But for once, Hermione shook off that stupid little moral voice.

_For once I should get to have fun, _the rest of her argued. _You always do what's right and here's your chance to have a little break, with no mess. You can have fun, then find a way home and no one will know what you did._

_This isn't you! _the moral voice responded, sounding smaller all the time.

_Yes, it is! It's still me...I'm still intelligent and everything. This is just me, but if I was rich. So, I'm curious what it would be like! Big deal, it's one time, _the big voice finished vehemently.

Hermione left her stationary position along the wall and strode determined through the throngs of people toward the center of the room where Pansy and Daphne were. As she half-walked, half-danced to make her way through the crowd she was surprised by the selection of people there. Almost all the purebloods and even some rich half-bloods from fifth year on up were in attendance, even including Gryffindors. Everyone seemed to be having a good time and while Hermione wasn't generally one for gossip, she still spotted several breaking news-worthy hook-ups as well as quite a few couples dancing in ways that Hermione thought would be best done behind closed doors.

Pansy pulled Hermione up on the table and she and Daphne maneuvered closer towards Hermione to regain their balance on the tiny table. At first, Hermione stood motionless and rather awkwardly in the middle of the two Slytherin girls as they resumed gyrating to the pulsing dance beat, but then Daphne passed Hermione the bottle of firewhiskey.

_Don't do it! _the very tiny voice trilled.

_For just once, I'm going to be a normal teenager and party, okay? _the big voice retorted. With that, Hermione gulped a rather large swig and coughed as the fiery liquid burned its way down her throat. She passed the bottle on to Pansy, took a deep breath and began to dance.

Two and a half hours later, the party was still going strong. The three girls were still dancing on the table, although the gorgeous stilettos had been abandoned in favor of bare feet awhile back. While Hermione had never been totally drunk before, she was starting to guess that this was probably what it felt like, as the bottle of firewhiskey, along with a second bottle, were very much empty. Daphne and Pansy, who had had a head start were much more sloshed than she was and as a result the dancing was starting to go in favor of something more inappropriate touching. Just as Hermione was ready to flee the table - she doubted she would ever be THAT comfortable with Pansy! - a strong pair of arms encircled her waist and lifted her off the table.

"Did you save some dancing for me, Malfoy?" Theo whispered huskily in her ear as he placed her on the ground.

Hermione spun around and came face to face with Theo and Blaise. For a moment, her Gryffindor instincts told her to flee, but she reminded herself that these people were supposedly her best friends - she had just had less time to get used to them than Pansy and Daphne.

"Where have you boys been?" she asked. The boys had arrived hours earlier to help set up all the charms and anti-detection wards necessary to hold such a party. Both boys had inquired about her health and state of mind rather teasingly and then proceeded to treat her like the oldest of friends. But once the party had gotten into full swing, they had mysteriously disappeared and the girls had been too busy dancing with each other to notice. Now that they were standing in front of her, she could tell they had done their fair bit of partying as well, as neither seemed sober in the least.

"Winning a fair bit of money off some poor Hufflepuff gits in Exploding Snap," Blaise responded lazily, and jangled a heavy-looking bag of coins for good measure. "What have you and the girls been up to, Herms?"

Hermione shot him a disgusted look at the mention of that repulsive nickname, but then smiled. "Just dancing. I am getting a bit tired though," she confessed.

"Tired? You can't be tired yet!" Blaise scolded. "Our Slytherin Princess never doesn't anything half-arsed...not homework, and certainly not parties," he teased.

"You wanker, she was in the Hospital Wing today," Theo growled and punched Blaise on the arm.

Blaise rubbed his arm with a look of mock sorrow on his face and had opened his mouth to object when Daphne's musical voice floated above the crowd.

"Beezie! Get your arse up here!" she called from the table, motioning with a brand-new bottle of firewhiskey.

Blaise turned to Hermione and flashed her a devilish grin. "I'm gonna go now, Herms. But our boy Theo here will see you off to bed. Won't you now?" he turned to Theo with a lewd expression on his face.

Theo raised his arm as if to punch him again and Blaise darted away towards Daphne and Pansy, but not before placing a surprisingly chaste kiss on Hermione's cheek.

"Let's get you to your room then, poor invalid that you are."

"My feet hurt too much," Hermione moaned. Then as if to prove her point, she began to sway unsteadily as the effects of the firewhiskey took more hold.

"You're not usually such a lightweight," Theo chuckled and promptly scooped Hermione up and began to push through the crowd.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Theo's neck and took a moment to appreciate how good the handsome boy smelled as well as to admire how obviously well built he was. She sighed a little sigh and nestled head against his hard chest as he continued to carry her through the room.

When they reached Hermione's room, she whispered the password rather quietly and felt her whole face flush as she uttered the words, "Mudbloods suck." She glanced up at Theo to see his reaction.

To her surprise, he chortled and shook his head. "You know I bet if we just stopped saying that word altogether no one would even notice. But you girls like playing undercover Death Eater too much for that to ever happen," he sighed as he nudged the door open with his knee.

Theo deposited Hermione on her bed with a thump. She groaned as the room began to spin and clutched a hand to forehead.

"I need to sleep," she grimaced.

"Do you still sleep in your knickers?" Theo asked quietly.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise as she tried to struggle to a sitting position. When they had been getting ready for the party, Daphne and Pansy had talked about the boys a fair bit. Hermione had gotten the impression that they had all dated each other at one time or another and that herself and Theo had been a couple most recently. That, compiled with the fact that she hadn't been able to find any pajamas in her inventory of the closet, lead her to summon up her "Slytherin self," as she was now calling this unleashed party girl and respond to his inquiry with a tiny smile of her own.

"Yes."

Hermione raised her arms and Theo took her cue and began to slide the red dress up and off of her.

_What are you doing? _the tiny little voice screamed inside her head.

_He's obviously seen me in my knickers before, _Hermione reasoned. _And it's just like it was bathing suit anyway._

Hermione's reasoning was interrupted as the rest of the dress slid up off the top of her head and suddenly Theo's lips were meeting hers. He kissed her needily, as if he could not stop. He tasted so good and everything in her head was just so warm and pleasant and delicious that she began to kiss him back, trying to match his fervor. Theo began to move away from her mouth and pepper soft kisses down her jawline and neck.

"Gods! I missed how good you taste," he murmured quietly in between kisses.

As he reached her collarbone, he began to suck on it quite delicately and Hermione let out a moan of pleasure that surprised her. Who knew she could make such a scandalous noise? But then her head began to pound again and she let out another moan, this time because her head was in absolute agony.

"Are you okay?" Theo was staring into her eyes with concern. However, the way that he swayed in double time lead the little reasoning Hermione had left to believe that he was probably just as drunk as she felt.

"It hurts," she whimpered, pointing to her head.

"It's okay, we can just sleep," Theo rolled over from his raised position above her to lie beside her.

Hermione breathed out deeply, trying to sooth the headache that she could feel forming, and nestled herself down to sleep with her head on Theo's chest. She raised up her head to look at Theo one last time, but he was already asleep.


	8. The Dragon Awakens

**A/N: Okay, boys and girls, it's finally time to check back in with Draco and then get some Draco/Hermione interaction going! Yay!**

Draco Malfoy was not a happy camper. He had woken up and been startled to find himself in the Hospital Wing, encased in a VacuBubble. It had taken a good deal of banging to alert someone to his state of consciousness, namely the petite girl that was slumped over in sleep in a chair next to his bed. When the girl finally woke up she waved at Draco excitedly, but before he could identify her in the relative darkness she had vanished. Moments later, she reappeared with Madame Pomfrey at her side, but then left again with a whoosh of reddish hair. Blearily, Draco tried to guess at who the mystery girl was – Daphne's hair was red, but she was too tall…Millicent was the right height, but was too stocky and had mouse-brown hair.

He pushed the girl out of his head and decided to instead endure the tedious VacuBubble process by trying to recall the exact events that had lead to his current situation. Luckily, he had encountered a VacuBubble before (a water to butterbeer conversion potion gone amiss the summer before third year) and was no stranger to the procedure. While attempting to think of what had happened before he had been knocked unconscious and how that particular predicament had occurred, Draco reached up to rub his forehead, which seemed to be throbbing painfully. To his horror, he encountered a large bump on his brow, which could he could imagine was not a very attractive color. As he rubbed the bruise gently with the pad of his thumb, which was already beginning to shrink with the effects of the healing magic, the events that procured the bruise came flooding back to him, along with the name of the evil bint that had marred his perfect face.

"Bloody Granger," Draco whispered with as much venom as his voice possessed.

Finally, Madame Pomfrey finished the VacuBubble procedure and Draco hastily grabbed for his belongings from the small table next to his bed and made for the exit. No way was he staying in this foul-smelling place and moment longer than necessary.

"Aren't you going to wait for your friends to arrive?" Madame Pomfrey called after his retreating form. "Ms. Weasley went to wake them so they could stay in your Head Boy room for tonight."

Draco didn't even hear the second half of her statement as he was already nearing the doorway. He did scowl to himself at the thought of Blaise and Theo teasing him mercilessly at being sent to the Hospital Wing by the tiny Granger.

As he reached his rooms, Draco muttered his password and briskly stepped into his room. In the short time that it had taken to reach his room, Draco had already been busily plotting revenge scenarios to even the score with Granger in his head, but upon reaching his darkened room a wave of exhaustion came over him. Without even bothering to turn the lights on, he stripped down and flung himself at his bed, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The next morning when Draco awoke, he was possibly even more mystified by his surroundings then the night before in the Hospital Wing. His room looked the same as always, but everything was the wrong color…all of his Slytherin green had been replaced by a garish Gryffindor red. Draco leapt out of bed, staring at his room in disbelief. He threw open his dresser drawers and began to paw through them wildly. All of his belongings had been replaced by cheaper and shoddier versions and all of his robes had the Gryffindor seal emblazoned proudly across the chest.

"What in the bloody hell is going on?" Draco growled.

Growing up in a family of relatively dark wizards, Draco was no stranger to the evil side of magic and the idea that this was related to the potions incident was the first thought to cross Draco's mind. While he had never encountered such a disastrous potion misfire in his own life before, he had heard strange tales of spells that changed the world without anyone ever realizing it or people being transported to remote destinations or even alternate universes before.

"Bloody Granger," Draco whispered again, this time with even more menace and now a hint of fear. There was no telling what exactly the side effects of the blue foamy potion had been and no guarantee that those side effects could be corrected. And now he was lost in Merlin-knows-what kind of situation and the his only companion was that insufferable know-it-all, who had no doubt caused this anyway, but would surely blame him.

Draco continued to fume about the horrible twist of fate that had landed him here with Granger. To think he had been excited to have Granger as his potions partner yesterday morning! Normally, the chance to torment the Gryffindor girl appealed to him immensely - partly in jealousy of her minutely better grades, but mostly because he knew that any embarrassment he could cause Granger would bother Weasley and Potter ten times over.

Having Potter and Weasley as enemies was nothing really personal to Draco. Sure, Potter had rejected his offer of friendship in first year and the Weasleys had always had animosity towards Malfoys, but having a mortal enemy was really more of a past-time for Draco. Rather than expending effort trying to prove he truly was smarter than Granger in classes, Draco preferred to finish off his homework in a cost-effective manner (the best grade for the littlest amount of effort) and then spend his time doing more pleasurable things with his friends. The Pureblood Playgroup, as they whimsically called themselves, had several extracurricular endeavors, which included a lot of pranks and partying. Only Draco was obsessed with the Potter and the "Golden Trio" and while the others were fine with being seen as mini-Death Eaters, they couldn't understand Draco's constant amusement with casting himself as the big evil villain. Sometimes Pansy agreed to play along, but that was really only when she was dating him, which had been an rarely-on, often-off thing since they were children. The only reason Draco would ever give for finding such enjoyment in tormenting the two, sometimes three, Gryffindors was that Potter should always be reminded that there were people that didn't like him.

"The git's head will get so big, it'll pop off his bloody shoulders," Draco would say. "It's a favor I'm doing Potter, really, keeping his ego in check like so."

Unfortunately, now Draco felt his fun had been profoundly ruined. With no Pothead and Weaselbee to enrage with a protectiveness for the girl, tormenting her lost much of its allure. However, Draco did detest her on her own merits quite a bit as well. Her perfect grades irked him to no end, as did that irritating way her hand would begin to sway impatiently in the air, often before a professor could even finish asking a question. He often reminded himself that he chose to let her get the best grades and had he spent the amount of time she did hunched over books in the library he could easily surpass her. He thought.

Anyway, the problem at hand was that he would certainly have to interact with Granger in a more civil than usual manner to get home. In fact, to get back home in speedy fashion, he would probably have to work with the girl. At least she'd probably be highly motivated to get home and away from a world where Draco was a Gryffindor - that was his current guess of what had happened. At the thought of being in Gryffindor, Draco shivered in minor revulsion. While he and his friends didn't hold the same time of hatred for the Gryffindors that many of his Slytherin classmates did (at least in private they didn't), the goody-goody two shoes vibe still repulsed him. Gryffindors never seemed to understand that they could have fun and party without losing their precious integrity and "goodness."

Nevertheless, Draco knew that it was unwise to alert anyone here in this alternate universe or whatever the hell it was to his abnormal presence and he donned the Gryffindor robes with only one more shiver of disgust. He fastened the poorly made watch that lay on the dresser to his wrist and checked the time. Granger would likely be found in the Great Hall eating breakfast and although the idea was still distasteful to him, he knew that his first step in getting home would be to find her. He left his rooms and began walking with his usual leisurely and self-assured gait toward the Great Hall. He was still contemplating what sort of approach to take with Granger - he could attempt to be cordial and coax her into helping him, which would no doubt take a long time, or to simply force her to help, which could backfire as well (what with the storm of self-righteous indignation she would quickly stir up) - when he reached the wide entrance to the Great Hall. Although his intent was focused on Granger, his eyes still automatically slid to where he and his friends usually sat.

Draco stood motionless in the doorway as he stared at the utterly absurd scene in front of him. Granger was sitting in Draco's usual seat, surrounded with all Draco's friends. Pansy was sitting next to Granger, absentmindedly creating a small braid in Granger's hair while chatting with Daphne who was seated directly across from her. One twist of Pansy's hand pulled harder than usual on Granger's hair and she grimaced slightly and turned to say something to Pansy while massaging her temple. Pansy scoffed and replied something to Granger with mock haughtiness. Pansy's remark caused Daphne and Blaise to snort with laughter. Theo, however gave Granger an expression of sympathy and murmured something in her ear before bending over his gangly height to Granger's petiter frame to place a brief kiss on her temple. Granger flushed a delicate shade of pink, but dropped her head and allowed it to rest of Theo's shoulder.

This last gesture was the final straw for Draco. He was infuriated with Granger - even if she didn't know what she was doing he could hardly tolerate her usurping all of his friends - but he was more infuriated with himself. How could it have not occurred to him that as he was now a Gryffindor, Granger might now be a Slytherin. He stalked towards Granger angrily, but all thoughts of which plan he would use when he reached her flew out of his head. He reached the Slytherin table and stood directly behind Granger, glaring ferociously at the back of her head.

"Was there something you needed, Granger?" Daphne flipped her long hair and looked at Draco expectantly.

"Granger?" Draco spat back in question. _This is so much worse than I thought, _Draco realized instantly.

At the same time, the real Granger had spun in her seat and was now staring at Draco, her small face deathly pale.

Draco wanted to step forward and strangle the stupid girl for clearly play-acting as a Malfoy (as his quick mind had already assumed), but instead he decided to wait for her to pick a course of action. Clearly, she had spent more hours conscious and away from the Hospital Wing than he had and would hopefully be able to handle the situation with some tact. Besides, he didn't think he would be able to wrench her away from the over-protective Blaise and Theo without her go-ahead anyway. To communicate this, he slowly raised one eyebrow, but continued to stare steadily into her eyes. At first, Granger looked confused, but a flash of understanding beamed through her hazel eyes and she quickly stood up.

"I can take care of this," she said to the other Slytherins. "I'll catch up with you in class."

Draco almost burst out laughing when he heard her tone of voice. It was like she really was play-acting at being Slytherin and she was trying to sound as she imagined them to be - haughty and stuck-up. But the others seem to take this for face value and then resumed their conversations as Draco followed Granger out of the Great Hall.

As soon as they were around the corner, Draco briskly grabbed Granger's arm and pulled her into an empty classroom.

"Let go, Malfoy!" she squealed, pulling her arm away and stepping away from him.

"Oh, so you do know who I am!" Draco snapped angrily.

She flushed, not the pink from Theo's kiss, but a more violent red.

"Look, I know it's confusing, but something went wrong with the potion and now it's like I'm still me - but the me that I would be if I was you, a Malfoy and a Slytherin - and you're still you, obviously, but the you that's like me," she finished hastily.

"I know what's going on, Granger. But what I want to know is if you know what's going on, why are you hanging out with my friends...and letting them kiss you, for that matter?" Draco shouted.

Granger flushed redder yet, but then her eyes narrowed. "See? I knew this was your fault! Why would you do this? Why would you send me here?" she demanded.

"I didn't do this, you crazy bint!"

"How do you know what's going on then?"

"I'm evil, remember? We dark wizards know all kinds of stories about powerful magics backfiring," Draco responded scathingly.

Granger looked ready to shout at him more, but she instead took a deep breath and sighed.

"I know you're not evil," she said quietly. "And you really do have some explaining to do."

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reading this story! But what would make me even happier would be an eensy bit more of reviews...pretty please?**


	9. Confrontations in the Classroom

**A/N: Now I know it's looking like it will be a Hermione/Theo story, but I promise that it's Dramione. Promise promise!**

Hermione stared steadily at Draco, trying to look more confident than she was really feeling at that particular moment. She hoped she was doing a reasonably good job of portraying this to Malfoy, because in reality she was rather frightened of him at this moment. His gray eyes were stormy and he looked completely infuriated with her. The way he had stalked up to her in the Great Hall was very reminiscent of a lion stalking their prey and though Hermione was used to Malfoy trying to irritate or annoy her, she wasn't sure she had seen him look quite so fearsome before.

The thought of a lion made her notice the small crest that was on the front of Malfoy's robes. It was a Gryffindor lion. The sight of it made Hermione lose control of her carefully maintained façade and she began to giggle. The giggles grew and grew until she was doubled over in laughter, tears streaming down her face. Clutching her stomach, Hermione slid down the wall she had been leaning against until she was seated on the floor.

While the sight of Malfoy in Gryffindor garb was amusing, it wasn't as riotously funny to her as her laughter illustrated. The hysterics were more the result of the absurdity of the situation as a whole and the conflicting emotions Hermione was now feeling – she was currently scared of Malfoy, but also tremendously relieved to see someone from her own world and not feel as alone as she had felt before. However, remembering that she was alone here with Malfoy lead her shaking laughter to turn into heaving sobs.

Throughout this, Malfoy had been standing there rather shell-shocked by the rapidly morphing emotions of the girl in front of him. He no longer looked as angry, but was now a mix of exasperation and bewilderment. Hesitantly, he crouched down in front of Hermione. She gazed at him cautiously, surprised to see him so close to her. He remained there, motionless, just regarding her steadily as Hermione's sobs quieted slowly and finally she fell silent.

Malfoy cleared his throat, stood up, and then shouted at her. "What in all bloody hell was that? Are you crazy, Granger? I mean, have you gone completely loony?"

The loudness of his voice surprised Hermione and she struggled to stand, but she was seated tightly against the wall and now Draco loomed over, still ranting.

"Perfect! Not only am I stuck here in this ridiculous backwards world with you of all people, you've gone completely round the bend! Not to mention you must have some twisted secret desire to be in Slytherin and now you're stealing my friends, acting like you're the best of mates. Oh, and letting them snog you!"

Hermione had finally managed to rise to her feet and she glared at him fiercely. "I'm not being loony! I'm perfectly sane, thank you very much. I just found the sight of you in Gryffindor robes…amusing," she finished lamely.

Malfoy stared at her in amazement.

"You just completely broke down because you thought me in Gryffindor robes was amusing?" he asked incredulously. "And tell me, Granger, how exactly is that not loony?"

She shrugged her shoulders, not sure how to explain that she was actually happy to see him.

He frowned at her. "I'm only wearing these utterly distasteful things because that is the norm for my poor lost self in this place. And rather than make a fuss and throw this universe out of balance, leaving **me **stuck here with **you** for eternity, I will bear what I must," he finished haughtily.

Hermione simply gaped at him. "I thought I was going to have to convince you," she mumbled. "I thought the biggest problem would be getting you to keep your mouth shut. I thought you would muck everything up by stomping around and making a big fuss, going all, 'I'm Draco Malfoy!' and then we'd never get home," she finished with a flourish, lowering her voice to a poor imitation of his.

Malfoy chose this moment to burst into laughter himself. "Merlin, Granger, I know we hate each other and all that rot, but I thought your claim to fame was that you were the intelligent one. Surely, you noticed in seven years that I am not a bumbling idiot like some of those gits you call friends."

"Just because you are intelligent, it doesn't mean you act it," Hermione snapped. "For instance, getting back to my original point, why do you and your stupid _Pureblood Playgroup_ insist on acting all dark and nefarious when you are clearly not evil or even remotely in agreement with Voldemort at all?"

"Getting back to **my **original point, if you think my friends are stupid, why are you hanging around them? And snogging them?" Malfoy finished pointedly.

Hermione flushed, thinking back to this morning's events.

_Pansy was braiding her hair, but she pulled too hard, exacerbating the pounding headache Hermione still felt. She reminded Pansy about her headache from all the firewhiskey and loud music the night before and Pansy had laughed at her. _

"_Some of us remembered to bring Hangover Potion with us this year, Hermione," Pansy had replied daintily._

_Hermione had been irritated by the chuckling Slytherins until Theo had leaned over to her and whispered in her ear._

"_I can make it better."_

_And then he had placed a kiss on her temple, soft and sweet, which was quickly ruined when Hermione had caught sight of Malfoy coming toward her._

Back in the empty classroom, Hermione glared at Malfoy.

Malfoy glared back.

"Well?" Hermione prompted after about a minute of silence.

"Well, what?" Malfoy asked. "I think you'll find, Granger, that I have a lot more patience then you do and I am certainly not inclined to explain myself to someone who is sleeping with one of my best mates under false pretenses."

Hermione gasped and she could feel her cheeks flush. "How did you know about that?"

Now it was Malfoy's turn to look shell-shocked. "You shagged Theo? Gods, eager little bint, are you?"

"I didn't shag Theo!" Hermione cried. "We just slept in the same bed."

"Explain more, Granger," Draco said fiercely.

"I don't have to explain anything to you!" Hermione yelled. "You should be explaining to me! Why?" she asked, moving toward him. "Why do you treat me so horribly and call me awful names when you have no problem with my blood? And if you're so smart, why would you want anyone to think less of you then what you really are?"

"What I do with my friends is my personal business and you have no right shoving your dirty Mudblood nose into it," Draco sneered.

"Who's the Mudblood now, Malfoy?"

With her own use of that appalling word, Hermione launched herself at him, beating at his chest with clenched fists. As he was now the one pressed against the wall, he made no move to stop her and just stood still as she thumped against his chest in a solid tempo. In her head, the quiet thwacking noise chanted, "Mud. Blood. Mud. Blood. Mud. Blood."

Finally, she stepped away from him and wiped her palms on her skirt. He continued to stand up against the wall and did not move to even speak to her. His mouth was pressed in a firm line and his eyes, usually vivid with some kind of emotion were now unreadable.

"This morning before breakfast I found my diary and I read the whole thing," she said curtly, staring at him.

His eyes remained unreadable, so she pressed on with her ace in the hole.

"I'm sure there are some differences because I am a girl and I'm me, and you're a boy, and you're you, but I know everything. I don't need you to explain it, I just thought you'd like it better that way."

Even with this surprising revelation, Malfoy continued to stand motionless against the wall.

"Well, say something! Do something! How does it feel knowing that I know everything about you, your deepest, darkest secrets? Come on, Malfoy," she egged him on, upset with his non-existent reaction.

"It's probably best if you call me Draco now," he finally spoke. "It may be uncomfortable, but if anyone ever overheard us speaking it would certainly be less odd than you calling me Malfoy."

Hermione looked at him strangely. "Fine. Do you have anything else to say about this, _Draco_?" she asked scathingly.

"Yes," he responded abruptly and pushed himself away from the wall. "You may think you know who I am, but you don't. The you who is playing me is nothing more than a pale imitation of myself so do not ever again condescend to me in thinking you know one single, solitary thing about my life."

Malfoy was now approaching her slowly and the blank stare she had received before had returned to look of ferocious anger.

"Nothing has changed between us because we are here. The only time I myself will condescend to speak to you will be to work with you to figure out how you sent us here and return us home in the most efficient manner possible. I will be civil to you, but only in an attempt to speed the process and in no way because I feel any real civility toward you at all."

Hermione found herself once again pressed up against the wall as Malfoy stood too close for comfort.

"You will stay away from my friends. You will keep up appearances enough to keep from alerting anyone that something has changed, but you not try to bond with them in any way and there will certainly be no more snogging and no more sleeping in the same bed or I swear that when we find a way out of this demented place I will leave you here."

"But you'd probably like that, wouldn't you, _Hermione_," he whispered her given name for the first time, his face leaning into hers, very, very close.

"Finally get to be a pureblood, a real witch, and have real wizards paying attention to you besides that nancy blood-traitor of yours," he hissed.

A wave of guilt washed over Hermione at the thought of her real friends back home.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy!" she cried out as she tried to dart around him and head for the door. The surprise of her motion almost netted her a success, but Malfoy grabbed for her wrist and tried to yank her back toward him.

At that moment, the door burst open.

Hermione found herself becoming quite dizzy, she had been straining toward the door, then Malfoy had wrenched her backwards and now strong arms were pushing her back toward the door where she now stood, clutching the doorframe and watching the bizarre scene in front of her.

Malfoy was being pinned up against the wall by his two best friends, Blaise and Theo. Both of them looked absolutely furious and Theo was actually shaking with anger.

"I don't know what's been wrong with you these last couple days, Granger," Theo hissed. "But if you ever come near her again, your Golden Trio will be reduced to a Duo."

"We're very good at what we do," Blaise added silkily. "No one will ever find you, and no one will ever know it was us."

Theo released Malfoy's arm and strode back across the room to Hermione.

"Are you alright?" he asked tenderly.

Theo held her face in his hands and gently turned it from side to side, inspecting for injuries. When he could find none, he rummaged through his pockets and handed Hermione a handkerchief, indicating that she should wipe the tearstains that still streaked down her cheeks.

She smiled tentatively at him and while his lips were still set in a concerned grimace, his blue eyes smiled back at her with warmth and concern.

Hermione's attention was drawn away from him, however, when she heard a loud noise, followed by a yelp and a groan. Blaise briskly walked up next to Theo and Hermione and extended his hand, which was bleeding heavily around the knuckles.

"The stupid pansy broke my hand with his face," Blaise grimaced. "Herms, if you will be a dear…"

She blinked at him, confused, for a moment, and then when she realized what he wanted, cradled his larger hand in her own, while her other hand reached into her pocket for her wand.

"Episkey," she whispered and the cuts and bruises melted away, returning Blaise's skin to its original unmarred state.

"You're the best, sweetheart," Blaise swooped down and placed a brief kiss on Hermione's temple, then walked off down the hall.

"Let me know if you want to get into another scuffle, Theo-boy," he called over his shoulder. "Violence is making me feel right manly today."

**A/N: Reviews are always appreciated, my darlings. But putting my fic on your alerts list always makes me happy, too. I'm currently at 42 subscribers and it would make my day to be at 50 by Chapter 10!**


	10. Thrown to the Lions

**A/N: The muse…and all my reviewers…have been very good to me recently and have lead me to write much more than usual. I don't know how long this streak will last, or how much more spare time I'll be able to rummage up, but enjoy!**

**Also, I've been a little nervous to write Harry and Ron, just because their voices come a little less clear to me than the rest. Any input or advice would certainly be appreciated! **

Draco stayed in the empty classroom for a long time after Granger had left with the Slytherins. He had healed his broken nose as best he could on his own, but the blood still covered his hands and face and dripped slowly down the front of his white shirt. Previously to his encounter with Granger, he had thought that he had been handling the whole "stuck in an alternate universe" thing fairly well, but actually speaking to her and then being mauled by some of his best friends had thrown him off.

Yes, that was the perfect way to describe the way he felt around Granger…off balance. When she had bluntly told him that she knew he wasn't evil, he had been completely aghast. It hadn't even occurred to him that Granger would find out his and his friends' well-kept secret. Then she had promptly gone into hysterical giggles, followed by a sobbing fit and Draco had been even more confused. He had tried to be his regular self with her, feeling certain that business as usual would make their needed interactions simpler.

However, they had quickly begun arguing (which was usual), but then when he had uttered that word he really didn't feel comfortable with anymore, Granger had launched herself at him and attempted to pummel him with her tiny fists. Again, he was so bewildered by her actions – she had never deigned to touch him before, except for that one awful slap – that he had just let himself be backed into a corner by the petite fury that was Hermione Granger.

When she had finally revealed that he knew his secrets, had read his journal (or her diary, whatever), he had been totally stunned. Had nothing to say. He had opened his mouth to speak, eventually, and he heard himself telling her to call him Draco. He really had no idea where that had come from, by there was sound logic behind the statement at least and she hadn't argued with him.

But then when she had said his name in that awful tone of voice, something inside of him had snapped and suddenly he was back in perfect form, talking to her in a voice dripping with condescension and hatred. He hated her, he reminded himself now. Just because he didn't care about what kind of blood she had didn't mean that he couldn't hate her for a variety of other reasons, he told himself.

Anyway, he had whispered her name back to her, for the first time, and it had clearly been too much for her. But when she had tried to run away from him, he could still feel his emotions growing and rising and had grabbed for her, desperate to finish the conversation. Then the really bizarre had started happening.

Now he still sat, slumped against the wall. He could understand with his brain why they had done it – they thought they were protecting one of their own – but his heart still ached at the betrayal of the friends he thought of more like brothers. Mildly annoyed with himself for thinking like such a pansy, he rose to his feet.

_Be Draco Malfoy, damn it! _ he thought to himself. He couldn't allow Granger to keep throwing him all out-of-sorts, he needed to remind her that he as the true Slytherin. What could he do that would throw Granger into a tizzy? A flash of inspiration hit and Draco's trademark smirk appeared on his face.

ooooooooooo

Hermione had allowed Theo to escort her back to her Head Girl rooms, but had flitted into the door, mumbling excuses about her headache (which was actually gone now) without allowing him a chance to kiss her again. She needed her head to be clear so she think properly about what had happened and how to go from here.

The confrontation with Malfoy had not gone as well as she had planned. While she certainly hadn't expected him to break down, sobbing and apologizing, when she informed him she knew the truth, Hermione had not expected him to be as angry as he had been. Of course, she hadn't really intended for him to see Theo kissing her either.

Even though she was alone, she still blushed at the thought of Theo. It was strange to think that only days before she had been leading a relatively romance-free life and now was allowing a good deal of PDA in a relationship she wasn't exactly sure how to define.

How exactly had she allowed herself to end up in this situation anyway? She blamed the firewhiskey, of course, but she could really only count that for the first kisses, the worst kisses, the ones were she had only been wearing her knickers. Hermione could feel heat rushing to her cheeks at the thought of shirtless Theo, covering her mouth with his.

Bad Hermione! Now that Malfoy was awake and angry, all the guilt that she had been suppressing was pressing in on her on all sides. She had told herself she was just trying to assimilate and play the part until she could find a way home, but she had let it become more. It's not that her life at home wasn't satisifying – Harry and Ron were the best friends she could have ever asked for, they were like her brothers. But maybe too much like big brothers…they treated her with love and respect, defending her honor (even when it didn't need it), but she had always felt like the two boys had a special bond that they didn't feel like they could share with her.

Even with the relatively short time she had spent with them, Hermione could see it was different with the Slytherins. They all loved each other like brothers and sisters, but they had no problem viewing each other in a romantic or sexual light either. None of them placed Hermione on a pedestal here, she was privy to all the crude jokes and rude pranks that if Harry and Ron had done, they had kept from her. She rather liked the freedom and easy familiarity that came with being a Slytherin as well. She had sat in Blaise's lap several times already, Theo had given her a piggy-back ride, and Daphne and Pansy were always playing with her hair and linking arms with her as they walked, not to mention that they all hugged and kissed each other on the cheek when arriving or departing from one another's presence. Harry and Ron were always respectful with her, rarely initiated physical demonstrations of affection, and were careful not to touch her in a way that could be misconstrued as something more than friendship.

Thinking on this, Hermione could see how she had easily let herself forget she was not really one of them. Clearly, this kind of relationship with people was something she had missed out on, and obviously desired. Still, as much as it pained her to admit it, Malfoy was right to be upset with her. She had no right to allow Theo to kiss her, Theo was another Hermione's Theo to kiss. Anyway, how would she feel if the situation had been reversed and Malfoy had been acting all chummy with her friends?

ooooooooooo

After Draco had cleaned up, changed clothes, and done a more thorough job of healing his nose using a mirror, he had headed straight to the Gryffindor common room. Unfortunately, he was now just standing in front of the portrait that was the entrance, as he had no earthly idea what the password was. He was had been staring at it only briefly, trying to think of another plan, when a short figure with wavy red hair that could only belong to a Weasley had attached itself to him.

"Drake! You're awake!" it squealed into his chest.

Draco groaned inwardly and steeled himself to play goody-goody two shoes.

"Good as new," he responded brightly.

The little red-haired figure finally released him and stood far enough away that she could meet his eyes comfortably without craning her neck. Draco had guessed correctly…it was Ginny Weasley.

"I haven't seen you since yesterday," she said, a look of concern in her eyes. "You must have practically sprinted out of the Hospital Wing, by the time I came back with Harry and Ron you were already gone. You never told the boys the password to your rooms so they couldn't even go and watch over you like Dumbledore asked."

Draco tried his best to look apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, Gin. I was just overtired. I went straight to sleep as soon as I reached my rooms. I hope I didn't worry you too much."

_Oh, ew._ The sugary sweetness of his voice was enough to make Draco want to vomit. Hopefully this was going to be worth it.

But now Ginny was looking at him rather strangely.

"Are you sure you're alright? I know Miss Slytherin Princess was acting strange yesterday, and you're acting a little off too," she said, looking at him thoughtfully. "You're missing your…snark," she finished after a long pause.

_Hallelujah,_ Draco thought to himself. Maybe his alter-ego wasn't as much of a namby-pamby idiot here as he had feared after all.

"What was that, Ginger? Were you fearful I would forget my undying love for you?" he teased her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close again.

It was still irritating to him to have to be chummy with the people he had been mortal enemies with for years, but at least he could be more himself than he had originally anticipated.

"Draco…stop it!" Ginny squealed as she tried to twist out of his grasp.

"I can't help it! I love you…you…complete…me," he said dramatically, quoting from a one of the only Muggle movies he had every seen – some stupid chick flick Pansy had smuggled into the Manor last summer.

"Get off, you idiot! You made your point!" she said, still trying to get away.

"No, no, darling, your line is, 'you had me at hello!'" he chided Ginny, still holding her steadfast to his side.

"What's going on here?" a deeper voice asked.

Draco spun both himself and Ginny around to come face to face with both Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Still mindful of his recent encounter with the Slytherin boys, Draco released Ginny rather quickly.

"Is there something you wanted to tell us, mate?" Harry asked, a teasing smile on his face.

"I get to be the best man, right?" Ron asked. "After all, Ginny is my sister."

Harry looked at Ron with indignation. "That's hardly fair, Ron. Merlin knows you'll never get married and then I'll never get to be a best man. Drake's my best chance."

"We are not getting married!" Ginny stomped her foot in consternation.

"Don't be that way, lover," Draco said in a soothing voice, grabbing her hand and placing a loud, wet kiss on her knuckles.

"Ewww, Draco!" Ginny wrenched her arm away and wiped the imaginary slobber off on Draco's sleeve. "I have to go meet my Charms study group…will you boys watch over Drake? _I fear he may be a little unstable_," she finished in a mock whisper.

The boys were still laughing too hard over Draco's ministrations to Ginny's hand to offer a proper goodbye, so Ginny just sighed, turned away, and left.

"Brilliant, mate," Harry offered between gasping laughs.

Ron had already managed to calm down and clapped a hand on Draco's shoulder. "If you ever do fall for Ginny, you have to answer to me and all that rot," he said, looking at Draco fiercely. "You will treat her right or I'll bloody kill you."

Draco tried his best to look petrified of the moronic boy that he had a good three inches on. He glanced at Harry, whose incredulous expression pretty much mirrored Draco's own feelings. The two burst into simultaneous laughter, much to the bewilderment of poor Ron.

"Fortes fortuna iuvat," Harry muttered to the portrait. As it swung open, he and a still laughing Draco entered, leaving a disoriented Ron in their wake.

"What's so funny? I meant that!" Ron called to their disappearing forms. "Hey, wait up!"


	11. A Stroke of Luck?

**A/N: I would just like to take a minute to thank all of my lovely, lovely reviewers. There is really no words that describe how happy and bubbly and squeal-y I get with even one little review! Plus, good for my readers…more happy Corinne equals more updates! Thanks again to everybody who chooses to review.**

**Also, here's a long explanation for a rather short part of this chapter: In a fic somewhere I can't remember someone called Transfiguration "T-fig" and I absolutely loved it – it seemed exactly what Hogwarts students would do, shortening the name like that. So, nameless credit to some wonderful author (unless someone else has read it and can share the author's name with me!) for the clever little idea I have included in this chapter.**

Draco had followed Potter into the Gryffindor common room with more than a little bit of apprehension, even though he was still chortling over Weasley's stupidity. Not only had he never been in any Gryffindor room before, but he had never spent so much time trying to be cordial to a bunch of Gryffindors either. It was harder than he expected.

Potter was bent over a table, piling up scraps of parchment and textbooks and shoving them into his well-worn book bag. Weasley had skirted around the spot where Draco had planted himself and had begun making his own pile of textbooks and parchments. As Potter shoved the last of his portion into his bag, he shouldered it and then looked at Draco curiously.

"Where are your books, Draco?" he asked.

"In my room," Draco responded, nonchalantly.

Ron had also finished packing up his bag and stared at Draco incredulously.

"T-fig starts in ten minutes, mate."

Draco now stared at him, open-mouthed, as he mentally calculated the time it would get to his room from here and then back to Professor McGonagall's classroom. Further back in his mind, his mouth was also agape at the idea of having to go classes a la Granger – what with the raising of hands and all that.

"Bugger," he groaned, turning to practically sprint out of the common room.

So much for spending his time on his little plan to take revenge on Granger. Now, instead of just having to act like her around her moronic little friends, he would have to put on a show in front of all the Gryffindors and Slytherins in their year together. And Professor McGonagall! Even reminding himself that these weren't his real friends, just exact duplicates, made him feel better. What made him feel even worse was Weasley's hysterical laughter that hung in the air as the portrait to the Gryffindor dormitory swung closed behind Draco as he continued to race down the hall.

When he arrived at his room, Draco could barely managed enough breath to cough out his password so he could stumble into his room. He quickly trotted into his bedroom and to his desk. Luckily, all his schoolbooks were in a neat pile on his desk and it was a simple matter to sweep them into the (_rather cheap_, he thought distastefully) book bag that hung over the back of the chair.

Pausing a moment to clutch at his side, which was aching from the sudden exertion and a lack of breakfast, he thought about his actions for the last few minutes.

"What in the name of all bloody hell am I doing?" Draco practically roared out loud.

Why did he care about being late to class? Certainly as a Slytherin he could be sure that McGonagall, righteous bitch that she was, would take any chance to dock points for tardiness. But as he was now "Granger," he could probably spout off any lie and she would willingly swallow it from her pet student.

Still, if he was truly going to play Granger to the hilt, he should be as timely as possible. But yet his own vanity still prevented him from presenting himself as a lackwit that couldn't remember when his classes were. So, Draco waited as calmly as possible for his breathing to slow to a more regulated place, checked his appearance in the mirror, and then finally grabbed the bag and made for the Transfiguration room.

When he arrived, McGonagall was already in the process of transfiguring an earthworm into a writing quill. Instead of sneaking quietly to his seat while she was distracted, as Slytherin Draco would have done, he waited patiently by the front of the room for her to finish the procedure. When she looked up, he forced an apologetic and mildly embarrassed expression onto his face.

"Sorry, I'm late, Professor. There was a couple of first year Ravenclaws that got lost on their way to Charms, and so I had to help them get there," Draco lied evenly.

McGonagall practically beamed at Draco, the idea of him helping the weak and idiotic clearly pleased her. "Yes, yes, Head Boy and all that…go on and have a seat, Mr. Granger," she said gesturing toward the class.

Draco now had his first opportunity to look at the other students that made up the class. Most of the Gryffindors were regarding him with indifference; clearly this was no different from "Granger's" usual behavior. However, Ron and Harry were looking at him with minor confusion and concern.

_Oops. Guess lying to authority figures isn't big in the Golden Trio handbook, _Draco thought grimly. _Have to think of a way to patch that one up._

Then, Draco's gaze fell past the Gryffindors to the Slytherins, who mostly congregated in the back half of the room. They were glaring at him with undisguised contempt, obviously upset with the way he had just evaded punishment. And, of course, the crème de le crème of the whole situation was the expression on Granger's face. She looked furious, evidently she had guessed that Draco the reasons for his tardiness were not all warm fuzzies and kittens. Really, the look she was giving him almost made him sorry that it had been wasted on such a trivial matter as forgetfulness and not something much more nefarious.

Draco almost felt like bursting into laughter at the irony of it all, but instead he walked briskly to the empty seat next to Weasley and sat down as quietly as he could, as McGonagall had already resumed her lecture. Both Weasley and Potter leaned over to stare at him quizzically, but Draco pretended not to see and busied himself with pulling things out of his bag.

_Shite. _ Now this was a problem. Draco knew what his own books looked like, but this other Draco's belongings were not exactly familiar. Deciding that Potter and Weasley probably weren't observant enough to notice if his method of note-taking wasn't the same as usual, he just leaned in and pulled out the first scrap of parchment his fingers felt. That parchment happened to be a page from a leather-bound journal that he was now holding at a rather precarious angle. Hastily, he righted the book and placed it in front of him next to the quill and ink he had already located.

While academic achievement wasn't first on Draco's to-do list, he still held a secret pride in his work and the thought of writing T-fig notes in what could possibly be his Charms book irked him. And since Draco liked to pretend that he didn't care about academics at all, the fact that it irked him irked him. Unfortunately, his organized side got the best of him and he surreptitiously glanced at the last page that had writing on it, which was about a fourth of the way through the book, to see what it was being used for.

_**I'm so glad to be back at Hogwarts! Even though I visited at the Burrow a couple times this summer, I really missed Harry and Ron, and even Ginny. Coming back from the Muggle world is always a bit of a shock, though. I know I'm the same person, but I'm sure even Harry, who also grew up in a Muggle home, would be shocked by how different I am when I'm back in the world I grew up. Especially this summer holiday in any case, what with all the things that happened. I suppose I'll end up telling Harry and Ron eventually, we did swear that we would tell each other when it happened to each of us. I don't know if I'll tell Ginny, though. Normally, I tell her everything about my girlfriends, but I think it would be too awkward to reveal this to her. Anyway, classes this year look to be quite interesting…as well as some of the new sixth years girls, who certainly look better than I remember them…**_

Draco sucked in a breath rather noisily, causing Potter and Weasley to stare at him curiously again. He quickly let the air out in a loud fashion, emitting a bored sort-of sigh. This only made them stare at him with more concern. Suddenly, he remembered that Granger would never find a single solitary moment of class boring, and her attention was always riveted to whatever professor was in the front of the room.

_Damn it, Draco, get it together! _he mentally chided himself. _That's twice now you've bolloxed up being Granger._

He quickly turned his head from the two staring boys and busied himself scratching out a few perfunctory notes on whatever the hell McGonagall was going on about. But as soon as he was sure that Potter and Weasley were paying attention to the professor again, he set down his quill to marvel at his good luck.

He had intended to simply cozy up to Granger's Gryffindor mates in such a fashion that seeing it would send her into fits. But finding a handwritten account of all of her secrets, or his secrets, or whatever, secrets that she had even kept from Potter and Weasley was too delicious and amazing to be true. It was also due to good timing, of course. Draco told his mates everything, and the Draco in this world apparently was planning to, after awhile anyway. And at least it sounded like he was still popular with the female population of Hogwarts, albeit in a more wussy, goody-goody fashion than his regular Slytherin self was.

Taking one more quick glance at Potter and Weasley to make sure they weren't paying attention to him – he really couldn't afford to confuse them anymore than he already had – he flipped to the front of the journal and began to read.

"Mr. Granger."

"Mr. Granger."

"Mr. Granger!"

Draco looked up with a start to see a very red-faced McGonagall standing very close staring at him intently. Actually, it appeared everyone was staring at him, and most of the class was trying to valiantly (and failing) to hold back snickers.

_Shite, shite, SHITE! _ The contents of the journal had been too unbelievable for Draco to stop reading and while he had meant to glance up occasionally to give the illusion that he was still listening, he had been too absorbed to pay any attention at all.

"Yes, Professor?" Draco asked as politely as he could manage.

"Would you care to tell the class what is so absolutely fascinating that you are too engrossed to hear your own name or bother to show any interest in my class for the last forty minutes?" she asked in a clipped tone.

_Well, I'm fucked either way, _Draco thought gloomily. All the Gryffindors and even the Slytherins had noticed that Draco, er…Granger, was acting strangely and there was really no point in trying to cover. On the other hand, he could revert to his Slytherin self, which could have disastrous consequences by the way of getting himself home. The temptation to be himself and mess with Granger using the clandestine information from the journal was too great, however, so he simply caved.

"Well, Professor, it's a fascinating story, really. It's about this girl and how she spends her summer holidays with her two best mates, Emma and Tom…" he trailed off slowly.

To Draco's satisfaction, he heard a terrified-sounding gasp come from the row behind and across from him. Casually, he turned his head slightly in the direction of the noise.

"Something the matter, Malfoy?" he asked innocently.

When he looked into Granger's eyes, his empty stomach twisted up into an even more uncomfortable knot than it already was. The look of pain and fear in her eyes was truly awful…she was looking at him in a way she never had before. Since she had learned his secrets from her own diary, the way she had looked at him still had anger in it, but it was milder – more supreme irritation than outright hatred. But now, that had been erased and the look was even worse than it was then when they had been back at home. Her hazel eyes, threatening to overflow with tears, looked at him as if he was a monster, a vile thing.

The tears that had been glistening in her eyes finally overflowed and she knocked back her chair and rushed out of the room. McGonagall, who was still concentrating on Draco, didn't even notice her until she was halfway out the door.

"Ms. Malfoy?" she called after her in a confused and exasperated tone. She glanced at Pansy and Daphne, who had been sitting on either side of Granger and who now looked rather confused themselves.

"Ms. Parkinson, Ms. Greengrass, kindly retrieve Ms. Malfoy, please. Contrary to the shambles this class has devolved to, we still have thirty minutes of class time left and I would like to get something done!" McGonagall finished rather fiercely.

Pansy and Daphne stood hastily and made for the door, but not before shooting glares in Draco's direction. Pansy's mouth curled up into a malicious-looking smile and Draco groaned inwardly. He knew that look. Like on top of everything right now he really needed to be watching out for one of Pansy's vicious and incredibly inventive pranks as well. As the two girls moved away from their seats, Theo and Blaise that were seated behind them came into view, their gazes also firmly fixed on Draco. Their twin expressions of extreme displeasure were enough to make Draco turn back around in his chair. But then Potter and Weasley came into his line of vision, also looking intently at him. They looked at him as though he was utterly alien, had sprouted horns from his head, or his skin had turned green. McGonagall as well had turned her attention back to Draco.

"You leave me no choice, Mr. Granger. As much as I hate to take points from my own house, your little display has cost Gryffindor…thirty points," she said grimly.

All the Gryffindors in the room groaned while the Slytherins attempted to hide their smiles behind books and hands.

"Now, on with the lesson…" McGonagall said briskly, turning back to the front of the room.

Draco slowly and deliberately lowered his forehead to the desk.

_That didn't go over well, _he thought to himself. He may have had his revenge on Granger, but the repercussions had been huge. His old friends were out for his blood. The people who were supposed to be his friends probably thought he was possessed. Pretty much everyone in the school would probably know of his odd behavior by the end of the day. And he had completely alienated the one person who could help him get back to his own world.

_Yeah. Didn't really think that one through, mate._

**A/N: Sorry, I really couldn't resist naming Hermione's Muggle friends what I did! There will be more info about what Draco discovered about Hermione in upcoming chapters! Also, wow! Last time I asked for more people to add this fic to their story alert, 25 people did! If I ask for more reviews, will you do that too? ;)**


	12. Conversation

**A/N: Wowzah! This chapter is by far the longest I've written, and it consists pretty much entirely of Draco and Hermione chatting with each other. Ooh la la!**

Mortified, horrified, appalled…none of those adequately covered what Hermione was feeling right now. Her most intimate secrets, ones that she had not shared with Harry or Ron, or even Ginny, her one close girlfriend, had been revealed to her worst enemy, Draco Malfoy. On top of that knowledge sat the awful guilt that she had already done the same thing to him and felt quite justified in doing it.

When Hermione had found "her" diary, she had initially began to read it as a logical way to gather information and remain incognito as a Malfoy until she could get out of this strange world. But besides practical knowledge about how Hermione Malfoy acted, she also uncovered a secret that had blown her away. Who could have possibly guessed that the scariest Slytherins currently residing at Hogwarts were secretly against Voldemort and consequently, all their parents?

This information had certainly made it easier to be around the rest of the Pureblood Playgroup. Now that she knew their use of the word "Mudblood" was nothing more than a rather dark joke, she was actually able to find humor in many other of the activities they chose to partake in. In fact, Hermione was finding it quite nice to be around them…Harry and Ron and the others had always been so concerned with being as true and good as possible that it had never even occurred to her that you could still be a good person while have a bit of fun.

The only time Hermione had ever had this much fun before without worrying about being "good" was at home with her Muggle friends during the holidays. Those times had always been her secret from her wizard friends, as she had always been slightly ashamed at the way she acted, but she contented herself with knowing that she could keep her two spheres of life completely separate and no one would ever know.

After fleeing the Transfiguration room, Hermione had gone to the library to hide out. It was a place that Slytherin Hermione frequently much less than Gryffindor Hermione did and she was fairly sure that Pansy and the others wouldn't think to look for her there. Madame Pince had looked at her oddly when she had rushed in with tears streaming down her cheeks, but she hadn't commented so Hermione had settled herself down at a table in the far back corner.

The tears had slowed after she got over the initial shock of Malfoy's discovery, but now that the bitter irony of the situation struck her, fresh ones poured out. How twisted was it that not only had Malfoy uncovered her secret other side, but she had actually already been revealing that other self to his Slytherin friends. _Perhaps it will horrify Malfoy to find out that I can fit in with his mates just as well as I can with mine._ The thought forced a short, pitiable burst of laughter from her.

The sound of her laughter, however pathetic, managed to snap Hermione out of her self-pitying mood and she sat up straighter and reached into her bag for a handkerchief. Even though her secrets had been spilled, Hermione knew that her primary objective was still getting herself and, unfortunately, Malfoy home. Hopefully some type of truce or mutual silence could be reached before that, but even if that proved to be impossible, she still had to get home. As Hermione began to swipe vigorously at the tearstains that covered her face, a quiet noise caused her to look up.

"Hi," Malfoy said. He was standing across the table from her and his gray eyes were unreadable.

Hermione tried valiantly to wipe away the remaining vestiges of her sobbing fit and hastily shoved the messy handkerchief in the pocket of her robes.

"What do you want?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He cocked his head to stare at her a moment, then spoke, purposefully ignoring the question. "I knew I'd find you here. I never really come in here, that's why nobody's found you yet."

His tone was civil, almost friendly, and Hermione had a sudden flash of insight: Malfoy was apologizing. The words weren't there, of course, but he apparently felt some remorse for what he'd done, or at least he had grasped they needed to work together to get home and was willing to cooperate. She realized quickly that she need to reciprocate that sentiment in order for this work.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy," Hermione said very quietly. "I never should have read your journal, I just thought it would help me blend in if I knew more about…myself. I promise never to tell anyone about it. The important thing is that we get back home."

The calm non-expression that has graced Malfoy's face quickly slipped away and was replaced by a look of surprise and anger.

"I don't need your help, Granger," he said, disgust lacing his tone. "I would never accept help from a poor, idiotic, low-born…"

"I know you don't mean that, Malfoy!" Hermione snapped angrily, glaring at him fiercely. Obviously she had read the situation wrong before and now she quickly forgot about the idea of being nice to him. "Why do you say those disgusting things when I know you don't mean them? Why do any of you? Why keep pretending to be something you're not?"

The little burst of emotion that Hermione had managed to provoke Malfoy to was now contained and he smirked at her calmly.

"I could ask the same of you, Granger," he replied silkily. "How many of your mates know how you spend the summer holidays?"

"That is none of your business!" Hermione hissed, still trying to mindful of the fact that she was in a library.

"Likewise, my loyalties and how I choose to present myself to the world is none of your concern," Draco responded, still appearing quite calm.

Hermione, on the other hand, could feel her emotions rising and rising. Why was it that Malfoy could get under her skin the way no one else could? A couple words from him could alternately make her cry, blush, or want to punch him the way faster than she could stop herself.

"Why are you even here?" she asked, the volume of her voice escalating dangerously.

He looked at her in that strange way again and then sighed. He glanced at his wrist briefly, checking the time, and then pulled out at a chair from the table she was still seated at and sat down across from her.

"It matters little whether it is agreeable to either us, unfortunately neither of us is advanced enough in potions to get home without some assistance. And since we are alone here, it has to be the two of us. So no matter how much we fight or insult each other, remember that for however long we are stuck here, you are the most important part of my world and I of yours."

Malfoy had leaned forward in his chair slowly as he had been speaking, his face looming only scant inches from Hermione's. She had been entranced by the quiet tone he used, it was like one used to pacify a pet, or a small child, and extremely melodic in quality. Now he leaned back fluidly, awaiting her response.

"Between the two of us, I never figured you'd be the peacemaker," she said lightly.

A very tiny smile flashed across Malfoy's face briefly and was gone so quickly Hermione wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it.

"I told you before that I'm not the bumbling idiot you imagined me to be," he said, matching her tone to let her know it was in jest.

_Before…_

Hermione leapt up from her seat rather inelegantly and swept around the table to where Malfoy was seated and knelt at the side of his chair.

"Merlin, your nose…it is alright? How'd you heal it?"

Without thinking, she reached up and placed her hand under his chin and slowly swiveled his head back and forth to examine his nose from all angles.

"It's very difficult to cast _episkey_ on yourself, but you've done a marvelous job," she mused, still turning his face from side to side to look at his profile and then his face.

His face. When Hermione turned his head so that his face was startlingly close to her face, she froze. She had crossed a boundary line in their relationship, voluntarily touching his person, and she wasn't sure if that was okay. She looked directly into his eyes and instantly felt very sure that this idea was even worse than touching him. Malfoy's eyes were boring into her and once again his expression was unreadable. The best way she could describe it was that they were full, but full of what she did not know.

"This would not be the best position for us to be found in, Granger," he said in an almost silent whisper. His warm breath blew across her face and made the curls that framed her face flutter gently.

The sound of her name made Hermione snatch her hand away from his face and she stumbled backwards slightly before catching herself. She got up quickly, but seated herself next to Malfoy instead of across the table from him.

"We'll need to arrange a time and place to meet where we won't be found," she said briskly, trying to clear the slightly fuzzy and disconcerted feeling from her head.

"Here should be fine," Malfoy said, indicating to the empty expanse of chairs that surrounded them in the secluded corner. "We'll need to start with research before we can get to any potion-making, anyway."

"Right," Hermione agreed, nodding her head absently. "But still, it'll need to be a time when we won't be missed by our respective friends so no one will come looking for us."

"Dead of night, then," Malfoy responded, and then a devilishly look crossed his face. "I can pinch Potter's invisibility cloak then."

"Malfoy!" she snapped and she could feel heat flood her cheeks as she realized how he had probably come across that particular piece of information.

He cocked his head at her questioningly at her tone and realization lit his face as he realized the reason behind her blush.

"You don't need it," she said quickly, trying to cover for her rude tone when things had been progressing rather civilly as well as trying to force the thoughts of Malfoy's knowledge of her personal life out of her head.

"We're the Head Girl and Boy, if we're out at night we can say we're on patrol to any professors we run across and just take points from any students we see for being out past curfew," she finished.

"Course, almost forgot that," he replied, almost gently.

Again, Hermione felt sure that this was some form of apology on Malfoy's part, but as she had been proved pretty wrong before, she pushed the thought down.

"So here, tonight, at midnight," she summed up.

Malfoy nodded his head almost imperceptibly and stared at her again.

_Stop looking at me!_ Hermione wanted to scream. The way his gray eyes looked into her hazel ones felt more raw and personal than anything else she had ever felt. He looked at her as though he knew all of her intimate thoughts and secrets, which he pretty much did, she supposed. Still, however uncomfortable she refused to break eye contact before he did. To throw him off, she spoke first.

"Are you going to tell?" she asked.

"Tell what?" he asked back, still staring steadily.

"My secrets."

"To who? Right now, they're my secrets, remember?"

"But when we get back…"

He paused for a moment.

"It all makes sense now, you know. Why Gryffindor's golden girl would so easily be comfortable with the worst Slytherins in the school," he said, his tone still light, trying to convey he was not attacking her.

"That's no one's business but my own," she said tightly.

"Why is that? What is it that you're so afraid of that makes you hide half your life from your closest friends?"

"Why do you hide half of yours from the whole world?"

Suddenly, Malfoy began chuckling. It was a sound Hermione had never heard before, one of pure amusement and not cruel at all.

"We keep going round and round in the same circles, don't we? Why don't we just get this over with? I tell you mine when you tell me yours."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. While he had seemed polite enough so far, this could still be an incredibly sneaky way of getting more secrets out of her for blackmail or who knows what else.

"You first."

Another round of that amazing laughter floated forth.

"Yes, I suppose since I proposed it…where to start?" he agreed. "When I was younger, Pansy and I discovered certain, unsavory facts about the treatment of Muggles and Muggleborns alike by our society, or at least the society our parents ran with. Our suspicions grew over time, until we finally decided that it was wrong and we wanted no part in it. In one way or another, Blaise, Theo, and Daphne came to share our views and we all confided in each other. The main reason for our secretiveness is safety, of course, we would prefer for our parents to remain unaware of our loyalties. Theo fancies himself to be some type of spy or double-agent or some rot one day, though," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Why do you act the way you do the rest of the time, though?" Hermione asked.

"Thought you understood that part now, Granger. Just because I think the Dark Lord's a crazy old bat doesn't mean I should mope about all the time worrying about how to defeat him. That's Potter's gig. I'm young, rich, and astonishingly handsome so I will have as much fun as I please."

Hermione let out a tentative giggle and nodded. "I think I do understand."

"Right then, it's your turn. How did you come to this miraculous state of 'understanding?' That journal only started at the beginning of the summer, you know."

She looked at him hard, trying to discern from his eyes whether this was all just some elaborate trap.

"No."

"No? Damn it, Granger, I told you mine, now you tell yours, that was the deal!" Malfoy exclaimed angrily.

"I will," she said, trying to reassure him before he got back to his normal, angry self. "I just have one more question for you, first."

He glared at her, annoyed, but then nodded his assent. "Fine. Ask away. But remember, it's your turn next."

"Why do you treat me the way you do, then? If you don't hate me for my blood? You don't treat any other Muggleborns this way…why me?" she rushed to the end of her questions in one breath, forcing her to take a gasp of air directly after.

"I thought you were supposed to be smart," he grumbled. "Obviously, I should hate Potter because he's all Boy Who Lived, and you're his Muggleborn best friend. It's kind of frowned on by most wizards to hate on the 'savior of the wizarding race' so all the hate-ons for Potter get directed to you. Clear?"

"But still, it always seemed like you had a…personal vendetta…against me," Hermione responded, trying to choose her words carefully.

"Well, yeah, a bit. Do you think I liked coming in second to you all the time? I'm smarter than you! Still, I had better things to do with my time than study, but I couldn't let you prance about with your nose in the air thinking you were so much better than everyone." Malfoy sounded rather exasperated by this whole line of questioning, as though it should be painfully obvious to even a small child.

"So instead of actually studying, you used your study time to torment me because I was studying? That makes no sense at all!" she cried.

"Oh, do loosen up, Granger," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's your turn now, stop trying to avoid it."

Hermione sighed and tried to scrutinize his expression once more to see if this was a trap. His eyes were back to that unreadable state, though, so she sighed again and opened her mouth to speak.

"It's not a big deal, really. It's just that my Muggle friends don't have the same pressures that I do here, what with the war and all. Emma was my best friend growing up, and she was the only one I really regretted lying to when I left for Hogwarts. I told her I was going to boarding school. When I came back for the summer holidays, it was always hard to keep it a secret from her, but we always fell back into our easy routine of being best mates so easily."

"How touching," Malfoy said dryly. "You're avoiding the whole issue here, Granger."

"I'm getting there," Hermione snapped at him.

"Anyway, her twin brother, Tom, always avoided us when we were little, but one summer, he just started following us around. After first, Emma was annoyed, but pretty soon the three of us were inseparable. The twins could get pretty wild together and they convinced me to try all sorts of stuff with them…" she trailed off, smiling fondly at her own memories.

"Like what?" Malfoy asked, clearly riveted by her story.

"Oh, you know, the basic stuff. They got me drunk for the first time. Tried pot. Went skinny-dipping. Got a tattoo."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

"Nowhere you'll ever see," she responded and was surprised to hear the teasing tone of her voice.

He looked shocked for a moment, but covered quickly. "What else?"

"You already read what else," she retorted.

"Okay, then, why? I always thought you were madly in love with the Weasel…but then again, I always thought you were a chaste, proper, little girl."

"Why am I even telling you this?" she said angrily. "I should have known this was a bad idea!"

"Calm down, Granger. Fair's fair. I explained why to you, now it's your turn."

She glared at him again, but continued with her story, against her better judgment.

"You just said the why right there. Everyone here knows me as being the pure and good sidekick, so no one would ever expect that I would want things like that. Besides, Ron doesn't see me in that way. So, when Emma had to go away to camp for a month this summer, it was just me and Tom, and we got…close."

"You shagged him."

"No."

"No? That's what the journal says."

"We didn't shag. You make it sound so dirty! We made love," Hermione said defensively.

"So you love this Muggle Tom bloke?" Malfoy was staring at her again, his eyes burning into hers.

"No! Not in that way, at least."

"Then you shagged him."

"Fine." She glared at him, annoyed.

"Say it."

For some reason, she felt like his eyes were forcing her to comply and she answered him obediently.

"I shagged him."

He laughed again, the melodious sound bursting out into the quiet room. "Granger, you naughty girl!"

"That's it, I'm leaving!" she moved to stand, feeling humiliated and angry with herself.

"No, no, Granger, you misunderstand," Malfoy said quickly, his laughter dying away. "It just amazes me that all this time, you were just so much more…Slytherin…then I expected."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" she grumbled.

"Yes," he responded with his trademark smirk.

"Lovely. My first compliment from Draco Malfoy is for losing my virginity and then lying about it."

Malfoy let out another burst of laughter and then glanced down at his wrist again.

"Oh, buggering hell," he groaned, standing quickly.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, alarmed. She stood as well, and glanced around the room rapidly to see if they'd been spotted.

"We've been here for ages…so much for flying under the radar. Someone will have noticed we're missing by now. Hopefully, they won't put two and two together and realize we're together."

"Who would expect us to be together?" Hermione scoffed at the idea. "It'll be fine."

He looked at her in that curious way again. There was something in his gaze that she couldn't understand. It was like he was seeing her in a whole new light, that his image of her had been completely distorted and he was trying to make sense of it all.

Okay, maybe she could understand that.

"Here. Tonight. Midnight." He held her gaze for a moment longer and then turned and walked briskly out of the library.

**A/N: The amount of response I'm getting for this story has been fabbo recently, and I would love, love, LOVE for that to continue! Review, please! Love, Corinne.**


	13. Interceptions and Distractions

**A/N: I have to say, I am completely flabbergasted by the reader response from my last chapter. I had so many more reviews and hits then ever before, which made me so incredibly giddy that I was bouncing around my dorm at 3:00 a.m. like I had just inhaled a dozen Pixie Stix (which I have actually done before…)**

**Anyway, I worked hard on this chapter, and I hope that it lives up to everyone's expectations. If I get just a few more reviews then last time, I could break 100 reviews on this chapter, for which I would love you all forever.**

**Also, I apologize for the extra week it took to post this chapter. I had no internet last weekend, and then I had several exams this week and I wanted to make a few changes as well. Besides, I had an idea for a one-shot and so I'm writing that and it should be up in the next couple weeks. (it's PWP Dramione with a twist!)**

**This has been entirely too long, for which I apologize. On with the show!**

Draco had exited the library and was headed back to his Head Boy room to do some homework. He was secretly pleased at the idea that he could take sometime to excel in his schoolwork and finally come out ahead in marks, proving his intelligence to Granger once and for all. He was just deciding to start with his T-fig homework, hoping to make up for his Malfoy-esque behavior earlier that day when he was accosted by the two people he had rather been hoping to avoid.

"Where have you been Drake?" Potter demanded, placing his hand on Draco's shoulder and looking at him with a great deal of concern.

"You just up and disappeared after T-fig, mate," Weasley added. "We looked for you everywhere!"

"I've been around…" Draco responded vaguely, shaking off Potter's hand and trying to sidestep the two boys.

"Wait a minute!" Potter called, blocking Draco's path once again. "What the hell is up with you? You act all loony this morning, forgetting your books. You don't pay attention in your favorite class. Then you snap at your favorite professor, forcing her to take points from her own house. "

"Yeah!" Weasley added vehemently.

Draco took a moment to glare at the more moronic of the two boys, then sighed. How he loathed being forced to play a simpering goody-goody version of himself. But figuring he had already botched it up enough for one day, he tried his best to sound like a disgustingly nice Gryffindor Granger when he responded.

"I'm so sorry, guys. I guess ever since I got back from the Hospital Wing I've still been feeling a little off. I'm sure I'll be better after one good night's sleep." He added an apologetic smile for good measure.

"It's 4:30 in the afternoon," Weasley said incredulously.

"Well, I've got to do my homework first, don't I?" Draco asked defensively.

"Nope."

Draco turned to stare at Potter, who was now staring into space pensively.

"No? You can't tell me no!" Draco said scornfully.

"Look, Drake, we know you," Potter said, his eyes now turning to focus on Draco. "You think that massive amounts of studying are going to make you feel better? You need to relax. Come spend the evening with me and Ron and Gin in the common room."

Draco was starting to feel panicky now. Unlike Granger, he had no intention of becoming all mate-y with his alter-ego's friends. He could deal with talking to them in a civil tone in classes and at meals, but spending an evening with them was not high on his to-do list.

"But my homework…" he pleaded.

"It's the second week of school, Draco, it's not like you're in danger of falling behind," Weasley scoffed. "Don't make me get Ginny to ask you."

While the youngest Weasley had seemed to be slightly more tolerable, or at least less of an utter bore than the two boys, the teasing glint in the male Weasley's eye indicated that there was something about his sister that was to be greatly feared.

"Fine," Draco assented finally.

"Excellent," Potter said, clearly pleased with himself.

Draco was slightly pleased too, as that wretched look of concern had finally vanished from Potter's countenance.

"Lead the way," Draco said, resigned.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione exited the library as surreptitiously as possible. She had figured that Slytherin Hermione didn't really frequent the library and in case she needed it again she didn't want to give away an excellent hiding spot so easily, especially now that she and Malfoy would be meeting there tonight. She made it all the way back to her Head Girl room and had just muttered the password that still made her mildly uncomfortable when Pansy found her.

"There you are!"

"Errr…yes?" Hermione quickly composed herself and smiled brightly at the dark-haired girl.

"What is going on with you today? Daph and I looked in all the regular places for you, but you had just up and disappeared! How'd Granger manage to get you so riled up anyway?" Pansy questioned as she followed Hermione into her room.

Hermione sighed and tried to think of a plausible-sounding answer as she sank down into the plush green sofa in her small common room. Pansy sat down next her and patted her on the arm gently, sensing Hermione's discomfort on some level.

"Is there something really wrong, Mione?" she murmured softly. "You know I'm your best mate, you can tell me anything."

Hermione turned to look at Pansy and immediately felt a stab of guilt deep in her gut upon viewing the concern in Pansy's blue eyes.

_I can't keep this up much longer_, Hermione thought in agony. She hated lying (well, that was partially because she was so horrid at it) and she wanted to go home. But she also already felt quite attached to these Slytherins, Pansy in particular, and regretted going home to the version of them that still despised her.

"Just still feeling lousy from that ruddy potions mess," she mumbled awkwardly. "And last night…"

The way Pansy's eyes lit up when Hermione mentioned the previous night made her realize she had made some grievous error.

"Actually, it's not from last night at all, once that Hangover Potion you gave me kicked in, I felt just fine," Hermione hastily amended her previous statement.

"You know that's not what I want to hear about," Pansy teased. "We all just rolled with it this morning with you and Theo being extra-cuddly, but you owe me many more details. Did you shag last night already?"

"Shouldn't we wait for Daphne to be around before I talk about it?" Hermione asked desperately.

"Damn," Pansy sighed. "You're right, she was whinging before about us being best friends without her again last night."

"I never whinge!" Daphne's shocked voice floated into the room a split-second before she herself appeared.

Pansy and Hermione burst into an equally shocked fit of giggles which Daphne responded to with a stuck-out tongue as she settled herself in the black leather armchair across from the couch.

"Did you get Miss Mione to spill about Theo yet?" Daphne asked Pansy excitedly. "We've all bet on how far you lovebirdies went last night and I was planning on buying a scarf like that darling one you lent me the other day as soon as we get a chance to sneak into Hogsmeade…"

Daphne trailed off abruptly as she noticed the scandalized look on Hermione's face.

"What? It's not like I was planning on getting the same print and you saw how good it looked on me!" Daphne protested.

"You…bet…on me?" Hermione asked, outraged.

Daphne and Pansy shared a look and now it was their turn to burst into giggles. Hermione contented herself with glaring imperiously at the two other girls in turn until their laughter had died down.

"We bet on everything, dear. Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Pansy finally questioned, patting her on the arm again.

Hermione shrugged off her arm impatiently. "Never mind that. Who won?"

"How could we know that, Princess? We haven't seen you all day and stupid Nott won't budge," Daphne said lazily, examining her nails.

"He wouldn't say?" Hermione asked and was immediately annoyed with how breathless and girly her voice sounded.

"You know Theo," Pansy rolled her eyes. "If he wasn't so sneaky about getting what he wants he would've ended up being a Gryffindor, what with his idiotic sense of honor and all that rot."

"So, spill!" Daphne demanded, leaning over close to the two other girls. "Did you shag?"

Hermione hesitated a moment. "You won't tell anyone?"

"Course not," Pansy said, as if outraged by the thought. "Except Beezie, of course," she added thoughtfully.

"Don't tell Blaise!" Hermione gasped, horrified at thought of more people finding out.

"He's going to find out," Daphne replied. "Theo will cave, or he'll find out by if he wins the bet or not."

"Those aren't the only ways," Pansy added. "You know Blaise is freakishly good with finding out secrets. We usually tell him everything anyway."

"He gets it from the girls he shags," Daphne said sagely. "They can't spread their legs without opening up their mouths first."

At this, Pansy started cracking up. Hermione tried to look shocked for a moment, but then began to laugh as well.

"Alright, I'll share," she consented, still laughing.

"Yes, that always works!" Daphne crowed victoriously.

Hermione shot her a look, and opened her mouth to shoot off a reply, but then Pansy nudged her and shot her a look of her own.

"Get on with it already!" she demanded.

"Get on with what?" a deep voice asked from the doorway.

"Theo!" Hermione cried, shooting up from her seat.

"Damn it!" Daphne and Pansy cried simultaneously, slumping down in theirs.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Several hours later, Draco was dangerously close to being bored out of his mind. A Gryffindor's idea of relaxation and fun was certainly not the same as a Slytherin's. The evening had consisted of some wizarding chess, inane conversation, dinner in the Great Hall during which he ate quickly and studiously avoided even glancing at the Slytherin table, a heated Quidditch debate, one game of Exploding Snap, more wizarding chess, more inane conversation, and even some homework. The Weasel had begged for helped with some Charms homework and although Potter glared at him, he hadn't commented and Draco had been forced to explain a simple (okay, it was a little tricky) version of a Color Change Charm in minute detail for over an hour. There had been no alcohol (none!), no interaction with the opposite gender (save the Weasley girl, who he was clearly supposed to regard as asexual), no breaking (or even bending) of any school rules.

Now it was just past 11:30 and Draco rose to go, planning on heading straight from the Gryffindor common room back to the library to meet Granger.

"Well, it's…er...getting late. Best be going to bed," Draco said as casually as he could, faking a large yawn.

Potter and Weasley exchanged a look and then began laughing.

"You don't have to hide it from us," Ron said between chuckles.

"I don't?" Draco asked, the immediate fear he had felt in his gut giving an edge to his voice.

_How in Merlin's name had they found out about he and Granger so quickly?_ Draco stood there with his mouth hanging open, trying to think of a plausible explanation.

"You and Gin go off and have your little 'bosom buddies' meeting," Potter said with a grin. "Me and Ron will suffer on without you."

_What in all bloody hell?_ At least it sounded like something interesting was about to happen. Apparently, he had been wrong about the whole asexual business and he and the Weasley girl were involved! While the redhead would never had made it onto his radar otherwise, he deemed her passable-looking, and he grudgingly allowed that she did have a bit more of a brain than the other girls he usually shagged.

_Shagging…_Draco thought fondly. While it had only been a week since his last shag, it seemed ages ago thanks to this whole alternated universe business. At least now that he was here, Daphne was unable to discover and consequently chastise him for sleeping with her younger sister, Astoria, after the Sorting Ceremony had finished, Draco smirked to himself, pleased with dodging that bullet.

_Bugger._ The implications of being in this alternate universe crashed back down onto Draco. He wasn't going to get to do any shagging, damn it! Corresponding with the real life Granger, the Draco here had only had sex for the first time this summer, with a childhood Muggle friend named Emma. Draco shuddered at the thought. Muggleborn witches were all well and good with him, but Muggles? He certainly didn't believe in torturing and killing them, but as for bedding them? He still had class, for Merlin's sake.

That momentous occasion this past summer in Gryffindor Draco's life made it a sure bet that he and the Weasley girl weren't off for a quick shag. He probably couldn't even hope for a blowjob, as his journal had lacked mentions of foreplay of any kind. _Maybe a handjob? _Draco mused. _At the very least, I should get to play with her tits, the Weasel said something about bosoms…_

Thinking of the Weasel reminded Draco where he was and he promptly noticed that Potter and the two Weasleys were staring at him.

"Are we going to be leaving anytime soon, Dray?" the Weasley girl asked, a smile playing around the corner of her lips. "Much as I love to chat, I still have class tomorrow morning."

"Let's get to it, my darling," he said decisively, offering his arm to her.

She took it and dragged him toward the common room door, giggling.

"See you later, boys!" she called over her shoulder.

"Wait!" Potter leapt from his chair.

_What could he possibly want now? _Draco thought, annoyed, as the Weasley girl now yanked him to abrupt halt.

"Don't forget this," Potter whispered, glancing around furtively before pulling a large piece of fabric out of his robe pockets.

"Harry!" the Weasley girl gasp, delicately stroking the fabric in his proffered hand. "You know we're just going down to the kitchens!"

"Take it, Gin," Potter said, his voice still quiet. "It's too early in the school year for you to be getting caught by Filch…just be careful, alright?"

Draco watched with heightened interest as Potter fixed his gaze on the Weasley girl and she began to blush nearly the color of her hair.

"Fine," she finally whispered, and shoved the shimmery cloth into her pocket. "Let's go, Dray."

As the redhead led him out into the hall, Draco felt his mouth fall open again, a myriad of things shocking and amazing him simultaneously. He was finally breaking school rules as a Gryffindor, and it was to go the kitchens? To talk? Potter casually passed off his invisibility cloak to all his friends? (Now that one had possibilities…) Potter and the Weasley girl fancied each other? Draco sighed as the possibility of even a good snogging session quickly wilted from his hopes.

Draco quickly glanced at his watch as he helped the Weasley girl drape the invisibility cloak around the two of them. 11:52. _Oh, shite._

ooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione was going to march out the door any minute. It was getting on past 11:00 and she was had actually been planning on pulling some books before her appointed meeting time with Malfoy so that they'd have a good starting point from her research. Well, that was what her plan had been a couple of hours ago, anyway. Now that she had three large glasses of elderflower wine and six shots of Ogden's finest, things seemed a bit more fuzzy.

She had protested valiantly at first. When Theo, followed by Blaise had entered her room, she had begun to come up with excuses for why they should have to leave – homework, a cough, exhaustion, an infestation of nargles - but they had insisted that the five of them go down to eat dinner together.

_The meal was delicious and Hermione begrudgingly admitted that she had been quite hungry, having skipped lunch. Throughout the course of the meal, she even snuck several glances in Malfoy's direction at the Gryffindor table, but he was intently focused on his food and left rather quickly, Harry, Ron, and Ginny on his tail._

_After she was done eating, Hermione tried her list of excuses again, but Theo pulled her small hand into his (which made Hermione's eyes dart quickly over to the Gryffindor table again to make sure Malfoy was really gone) and said that they needed to spend some quality time together._

"_The party last night was brilliant, but we need some Playgroup time," he said, his eyes sparking with some kind of mischief and the others nodded their agreement enthusiastically._

"_Plus, we still haven't found out which one of you lucky ladies owes me ten Galleons…oofph!" Blaise finished as Theo kicked him under the table. _

_Being ganged up on four to one was pretty hopeless and Hermione knew that she couldn't protest too much without revealing herself as non-Slytherin Hermione, so she allowed them to lead her back to the Head Girl rooms after dinner._

"_Morgana, I'm so glad you're brilliant," Daphne sighed, snuggling up next to Blaise on the couch. "This room is so much better than our common room."_

"_Look what I pinched!" Blaise reached into his robe pocket and produced a handful of miniature bottles. _

_Pansy leaned over with her wand to help unshrink the bottles, revealing a truly massive amount of alcohol._

"_We can't drink that all!" Hermione gasped._

Ah, but they had. Through a series of more drinking games then Hermione even knew existed, the alcohol had slowly been diminished and now all that remained was a bottle of mulled mead with only one sip missing that Daphne had deemed "low class." Being fairly intelligent, Hermione had managed to win most of the games to start, therefore staying the most sober. But as soon as she had finished her second glass of wine she had started losing more rapidly, producing much laughter and taunts of "lightweight" on the part of the other four.

"I don't want to play anymore!" Hermione finally said after choking back her seventh shot.

"Fine," Blaise smirked, taking her shot glass from her. "Just settle the bet for us, Malfoy, and we'll call it a night."

"Why do I have to tell you all anyway?" Hermione grumbled. "That sort of thing should be kept private."

"It wasn't private when we made that scrapbook of pictures of Daphne and Blaise when we all spent the weekend at Pansy's summer home," Theo reminded her with a poke and a small, lewd smile on his face.

Aghast at what type of pictures were being implied, and doubly aghast when she remember that wizarding pictures _moved_, Hermione gaped, looking around at the four snickering Slytherins who all seemed amused rather than embarrassed.

When the laughter died down again, Hermione sighed and turned to Theo.

"You tell them, please," she whispered.

"You sure, Malfoy?" Theo asked, looking concerned and protective in a way that made Hermione feel warmer in uncomfortable places.

She nodded and buried her face in her chest. Gods, this was embarrassing. Gryffindor bravery and honesty had nothing on the frank disclosure and open sexuality of the Slytherins. How would she be able to face these people she was starting to think of as friends when they found out that she had stripped down and made out with one of their other friends after downing only some firewhiskey? Sure, they were definitely more comfortable with sex than she was, but still, they were going to think she was such a slut! She groaned into Theo's chest, but was startled to hear the noise of laughter yet again.

"I knew it!" Pansy squealed, holding out her hands.

Daphne and Blaise were reaching into pockets and purses to pull out handful of Galleons.

"Why'd you got to be such a lightweight, Princess?" Blaise groaned as Pansy chuckled gleefully.

"Darling, I thought you worked through those issues to seal the deal this summer on Adrian," Daphne sighed as she handed over her own Galleons.

"Wait a minute! Pucey? How'd I miss this?" Blaise gasped.

"Daph! You weren't supposed to say anything! Not after she decided she wanted to get back together with Theo at the end of the summer!" Pansy chided.

"Oops, guess that cat's out of the bag," Daphne replied casually. "Not to mention the one you just let out yourself, Pansikins," she finished, indicating the blushing Hermione and a rather pleased-looking Theo.

"No one can keep a secret around here," Theo grumbled, trying to look miffed, but still looking quite pleased with himself.

Hermione was blushing furiously now. She was recalling in vivid detail last night with Theo and that gorgeous chest that was now inches away from her face, albeit covered in fabric. Her Slytherin self had decided to go for Theo this summer and now it seemed her regular self was developing feelings (drunk and otherwise) for him as well.

Hermione moved only marginally, trying to be mindful of her surroundings (well, one large, masculine, woodsy-smelling surrounding in particular), but she really wanted to jump up and gasp with shock as her brain touched on another thought. _Malfoy_. Malfoy ordering her to stay away from his friends, Malfoy being punched by his friends, Malfoy's breath making her curls flutter as she clutched as his face in the library.

_Oh, this is so, so, so bad_, Hermione thought to herself. The thought in her brain sloooooowed down, like a record reaching its end, as the fuzzy feeling from the alcohol and the warmth of Theo's chest compounded, making her very sleepy. She tried to listen to the conversation still going on around her.

"Hermie went for Pucey this summer? How'd the hell I miss that? Why didn't anyone tell me? I'm supposed to be the one that knows the most secrets around here!" Blaise was still griping, upset at being left out of the loop.

Pansy, on the other hand, was still meticulously counting out her winnings. "When will you silly boys and girls learn that Hermione cannot complete any task, even one so luscious as shagging our darling Mr. Nott here…" Pansy paused to leer teasingly at Theo.

"…once she has had any Ogden's whatsoever? Firewhiskey is like a bloody sleeping potion to her!" Pansy finished, glancing over at her best mate.

Pansy choked back a laugh at the sight of Hermione, her curls strewn wildly around Theo's chest, some waving as he inhaled and exhaled, and the sound of her delicate, light snores.

"Like now, for instance!"

**A/N: Reviewer that breaks 100 gets a special prize!**


	14. Rescheduling

**A/N: I solemnly swear that it will never be this long between updates again! Seriously, I had midterms, the flu, and a host of other things that put fanfic on the backburner for awhile. I hope this chapter is enough to make up for it, and I do have enough material started to hopefully post a chapter a week for the next month or so.**

**In other news, my one-shot got shelved as well, but it should be up within the week. It's pretty much PWP Dramione and I would love to hear lots of opinions on it so be prepared to review! **

The next morning came much too quickly for Draco. He probably could have slept much later than he already had, but the late morning light streaming in the windows and through his bed curtains had disturbed his slumber. As he stretched, he first sighed happily, simply pleased to be lying in a warm bed on Saturday morning. The sigh turned into a groan, however, when he remembered his circumstances and particularly the events of last night.

He and Ginny had crept down to the kitchens under the invisibility cloak and met Dobby, the HOUSE-ELF that apparently had a slavish obsession to Potter and Co., which he was now begrudgingly a part of. Dobby had procured some ice cream sundaes and Draco was pleased to see that his tastes had remained the same – chocolate ice cream with chocolate syrup and chocolate sprinkles. Ginny teased him about his chocolate fetish much in the same way that Pansy and Daphne usually did. The thought of his real friends had made him a tiny bit homesick, but he quickly pushed it away in favor of learning some juicy Gryffindor gossip tidbits.

Ginny had certainly turned out to be a fountain of information about the subject (and every subject, really). While she had mainly discussed her budding feelings for Harry, interesting bits slipped out of her mouth at a fast and furious pace. Draco tried to nod and laugh in the appropriate places while mentally keeping track of the other pieces of gossip that he could use or his other friends would want to know when (if…) he got home, but really he was just amazed at the amount and speed of words coming out of the Weasley girl's mouth. Apparently, she had been bottling all of these things up during the summer and had been saving them just for this momentous occasion.

The majority of it was rather boring however, as it was about Ginny's own feelings. She was clearly infatuated with Harry, if the rate at which his name came out of her mouth was any indication. But she was also clearly conflicted about it. Whether she thought he would not return her affections or she just wasn't sure she was ready for a relationship Draco wasn't sure, but he didn't really care that much either. He had been tuning out for awhile, focusing on his ice cream, when a familiar name perked up his ears.

"…_and then Harry told me that he got paired with Theo Nott for his Herbology project. That shouldn't be too terrible, don't you think. Theo seems like the least terrible of that stupid Playgroup except for his terrible taste in girls, of course, but you already know how awful Hermione Malfoy is. Are you sure that you're alright? That Potions business was a right mess, but your bruise cleared up nicely. But anyway, Theo seems nice. Well, he definitely looks nice. I mean, he's got that whole tortured angsty thing going on, with that adorable hair in his eyes and his eyes…Merlin! They're more gorgeous than Harry's! They're just the deepest blue you've ever seen and I could just fall into them! But, then Harry told me that during Herbol-"_

"_Wait!" Draco interrupted._

"_What?" Ginny looked startled…apparently Granger did not usually interrupt Ginny's monologues._

"_So you think you and Theo would maybe…you know?" Draco wiggled his eyebrows suggestively._

"_Dray!" Ginny squealed, but then turned contemplative. "God, I don't know. I don't know if he would ever talk to me. I mean he's older and everyone knows that Slytherins and Gryffindors dating is usually a bad idea. He probably doesn't even know who I am."_

_An evil idea was forming in Draco's head. Granger and Theo were clearly getting cozy, which not only pretty much grossed Draco out, but also would be a major distraction to getting Granger to help him get home. Hell, if Theo let loose with the noble double-agent shit he had been peddling to Draco and Blaise with Granger, maybe she wouldn't even want to leave. Or worse, she'd still want to date Theo back in their world. Which is why it would be absolutely perfect to send a perky red-headed distraction Theo's way._

"_Why do you say that, Gin?" Draco patted her shoulder encouragingly. "You're drop-dead gorgeous and smart and courageous…" Draco was grasping at straws for more adjectives._

"..._and funny…and really clever with those hexes…loads of things! I'm sure he'd be interested."_

"_I don't know." Ginny still looked doubtful._

"_Worse case scenario, he says no, but your pursuit of him makes Harry insanely jealous," Draco added as a last-ditch effort._

"_I'll think about it," Ginny grinned. "We would look darling together, wouldn't we?"_

Ginny had tried to turn the conversation on him after that, but Draco had faked a series of yawns and herded Ginny back under the invisibility cloak and toward the exit of the kitchens. He had gotten a full night's sleep, slept like a rock despite the obnoxious snoring of the Weasel. Now that he was awake, however, the feelings of guilt that he had stuffed deep down were surfacing. The best way to earn Granger's trust, or at least forge a working relationship was probably not to order her to a clandestine, late-night meeting and then not show up.

Draco managed to stumble through a cursory morning routine and once he was presentable enough, he went in search of Granger. Luckily, the rest of the Gryffindors were out-of-sight and he wasn't forced to make conversation with anyone as he exited the Gryffindor dormitory. While this was sure to be unpleasant, he had best try to make amends right away if he didn't want the crazy bint biting his head off (well, more than usual) and refusing to work with him.

Amazingly, the moment he stepped out of the portrait, a slightly frantic and teary Granger stepped out in front of him.

"I'm so sorry, Malfoy," she whimpered, her large watery eyes staring at him apologetically.

"Maybe we should take this somewhere more private, Hermione," Draco whispered meaningfully. Without thinking, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her after him in search of a private area.

"I'm sorry!" Granger whimpered again, finally catching on to his name usage.

Surprisingly, she didn't protest as Draco continued to drag her down the hallway, finally pulling her into the Head Common Room. At least this was somewhere they had a cover to be together and his own friends wouldn't end up punching him in the face again.

"Now, whatever is it that's got your knickers in a twist this time, Granger?" Draco asked, once the door had swung shut.

"I missed our meeting!" she wailed. "Everyone came to hang out in our room and then we were playing a drinking game and I was sure I could win and I wouldn't get drunk because how hard is it to bounce that stupid little ball in the cup, but then it turned out to be really hard and I fell asleep and missed our meeting and I hope this doesn't mean we get off on the wrong foot, I really am ready to work together on this," she finished breathlessly.

This was too good to be true! Now, not only would Draco not get in trouble for missing their appointed meeting, but he would also be able to guilt-trip Granger supposedly abandoning him in the library. She would probably do the brunt of the work now because she'd feel so guilty.

"I waited for an hour!" Draco chided, trying to compose his face into something more upset-looking. "I can't believe you were out getting sloshed again when we were supposed to meet. This isn't a bloody holiday, you know, it's a fucking emergency situation."

Granger looked up at Draco, as she had previously been staring at her toes and when her hazel eyes met his, she promptly burst into tears.

_Shite._ While it was nice to have Granger kowtowing to him for once, watery females were something Draco preferred not to deal with. Whenever Pansy or Daphne got into such a snit, he, Theo, and Blaise always hastily exited to let the girls sort it out among themselves.

"There, there, Granger, no need to cry," Draco patted her shoulder tentatively.

However, this seemed to make the tears increase rather than slow.

"You're being so nice about this, Draco, I promise I'll be much more reliable from now…I mean you know me, you know I'm not normally like this," she blubbered on.

"Bugger it all!" Draco muttered to himself. While letting Granger do all of the work because she felt guilty would have been lovely, he was actually starting to feel a bit guilty himself. Damn his stupid blossoming conscience!

"Uh, Granger, perhaps you best sit down," he said hesitantly, guiding her towards a chair and sitting down in the one next to her.

"What? What is it?" she asked, alarmed. The slight panic at least seemed to stop her tears, Draco noticed.

"Well, erm, I didn't exactly wait for you for an hour in the library last night."

_Why am I telling her this? _Draco berated himself. _You're throwing away perfectly good leverage!_

"What?" Granger's voice had changed from alarm to confusion.

"Well, I mean, I was coming to find you this morning and tell you that I couldn't help it, but the Weasley girl bloody well dragged me off at the last minute and…"

"It was Friday night!" Granger gasped. "Ginny and I always do girl talk with ice cream sundaes on Friday nights. You didn't show either!"

"No, I didn't, but I was coming to make it right when you came up and…"

"You made me feel completely horrid about not showing up!" Granger accused, pointing her finger at him. "You let me blather on about how awful I been when you were the one that was really that was being an utter prat!"

"I'm telling you now, though," Draco offered.

"Not only that, you just let Ginny spill all her secrets to you, didn't you?" she spat.

"It's not as if anyone could stop that avalanche of words from falling out of her mouth," Draco mumbled.

Granger stared at him for a moment with her mouth open, as if she was deliberating about what to yell at him about next. Her mouth opened and shut several times rapidly, but the sound that finally came out was a severe case of the giggles.

"She is a bit much, isn't she?" Granger managed to get out between giggles.

"She bloody well talked my ears off," Draco responded crossly.

In fact, Draco was feeling cross for a number of reasons. Ginny had been an event in and of herself, although some of her gossipy tidbits may prove to be useful in the future. The thing that was really making him cross was himself. Moments before he had had Granger in the palm of his hand, basically willing to do anything for him. Now, he had just blithely given away that advantage for nothing, but to assuage a mildly guilty conscience. This was not the way Draco Malfoy was supposed to be acting!

Granger had finally managed to stop laughing and reached over, placing her hand delicately over the top of Draco's. He glanced up at her, startled.

"Let's just start over," she suggested quietly. "I'll forgive you for missing our first meeting as long as you forgive me for missing it as well. Why don't we just start researching right now instead?"

Draco forced his eyes away from hers and looked down to where her hand still rested on top of hers. It was clearly meant to be a friendly, conciliatory gesture, but the whole thing was rapidly becoming too bizarre for Draco. He couldn't do this. He didn't like the way being around Granger made him feel now that she knew all of his secrets. Hurriedly, he snatched his hand out from under hers and got up from his seated position.

"Sorry, I'm busy just now," Draco said brusquely as he walked toward the door. "Perhaps we can reschedule for later?"

Draco didn't even bother to listen for her answer as he walked briskly through the door.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione really hadn't the faintest idea of what had just happened. At first, she had felt awful about letting down Malfoy after they had formed their tentative alliance, then she had, of course, been upset with him for lying to her, but the fact that he had missed their meeting only to endure hours of Ginny's prattling about boys and such. (Hermione loved the girl, but honestly…) was probably a worse punishment than Hermione could have come up with by herself.

The image of Malfoy sitting quietly and paying rapt attention as Ginny chattered on about random blokes, girls with crushes on them, and what those particular girls were wearing was just too much and Hermione had started to laugh, her anger dissipating rapidly. Then, she had reached out to Malfoy and offered another fresh start, trying to be the bigger person, and he had started to act really odd and left the room.

Now Hermione was just starting to get irritated again. How dare he just expect her to take this? She may have messed up too, but at least she hadn't tried to lie her way out of it first. The spoiled brat was probably just assuming she would still feel guilty and go on and start without her.

Well, there was no way in hell that was happening. If he was just going to go on waiting for this little problem to resolve itself or for Hermione to do it for him, he would be sorely disappointed. Merlin knows that Hermione could tolerate the Slytherins for much longer than he could ever tolerate the Gryffindors.

Hermione got up from her chair and strode out of the room with a decided clip in her step, her righteous indignation growing by the minute. Bloody prat. She'd show him just how comfortable she could be with the Slytherins and then he'll be in a hurry to get home. Hermione headed in the direction of the Great Hall, hoping to find a certain someone still eating breakfast. A certain someone that she could certainly parade in front of that insufferable git.

As she rounded the corner to the Great Hall, Hermione found that certain someone chatting with someone utterly out-of-character.

Ginny Weasley was standing next to Theo Nott and speaking in low tones. Although her words couldn't be heard it was pretty obvious what her intentions were from the way she was more accurately standing on top of him rather than next to him.

While her brain tried to tell Hermione a number of things: Ginny Weasley in my friend, Theo Nott is not my boyfriend, don't make a scene, think about this logically, she pushed them all away in favor of an overwhelming justification: Hermione Malfoy was not going to take this.

In a way that she hoped could be interpreted as sexy and confident, Hermione sauntered up to the pair and smooth integrated herself between them. She wrapped her arms around Theo's neck and gave him a long, slow kiss on the mouth. He responded eagerly and when they were near the point of embarrassing themselves in public, Hermione pulled away slowly and allowed Theo to nestle her into the crook of his arm.

"Will you come get something to eat with me, baby? I'm starved," she asked him sweetly.

Theo had opened his mouth to reply when Hermione turned her attention to Ginny, who had backed up about a meter and was staring at the pair of Slytherins, looking torn between wanting to punch Hermione and starting to cry.

"Take a picture, Weasley, it'll last longer," Hermione snapped as rudely as she could and turned to direct Theo into the Great Hall. As they did, Hermione almost squealed with triumph as she caught a glimpse of white-blond hair promptly rushing towards the redhead she had left behind.

"What was that all about?" she hissed almost angrily in Theo's ear.

"Honestly, I haven't the foggiest idea," he snickered, lacing their fingers together. "She just came up to me and started talking about a load of things. The number of words she managed to push past her lips…" he finished in wonder.

"She was hitting on you, obviously," Hermione interjected tightly.

Theo stopped short and turned to face Hermione. He smirked in that half-irritating, half-drop-dead-sexy way that all Slytherins must have learned at birth.

"Did the little Weasley girl make you jealous, sweetheart? Because I have to say, jealous looks damn good on you."

Theo pulled her close to his chest and bent his face down to hers for another long kiss. This one was considerably more heated, which could probably be blamed on a number of things, the jealousy Hermione actually did feel, that bloody smirk of Theo's, and the residual anger Hermione was still feeling toward Malfoy who was hopefully still watching somewhere. He thought he could manipulate her, well this would show him that she would do exactly as she pleased until he came groveling back to her.

"Sorry to interrupt this disgusting display of affection, but there is some important Heads business that actually needs to get done," a familiar voice said.

Theo ended their kiss abruptly and turned to face Malfoy, a protective arm encircling Hermione's waist.

"What did I tell you? You stay the fuck away from her," Theo hissed quietly.

"Much as I would like to, we are actually required to work together. If you have an issue with that, perhaps you could take it up with Dumbledore," Malfoy responded mildly.

Though he outwardly appeared calm and simply irritated to have to deal with the amorous couple, Hermione had seen Malfoy angry enough times to know that his rage was currently boiling white hot just underneath the surface.

"Sorry, I'm busy just now," Hermione replied airily as she steered Theo in the direction of the Great Hall yet again. "Perhaps we can reschedule for later?" she called over her shoulder.

**A/N: You go clicky-clicky with the little button and I go squealy-squealy yay yay yay!**


	15. Plans, then Practice

**A/N: Wow, terribly sorry that it has been a month since my last update. Not much explanation for why, things just kind of got away from me for awhile… Thanks to Kat.1600 for leaving me a tiny comment that made me reevaluate my Draco. And big, BIG thanks dramionejunkie for reassuring me and telling me how to fix it. **

_Oh, it was so on._

Draco hadn't been feeling quite like himself all morning. He had somehow allowed some ridiculous feelings of guilt and confused emotions to allow his leverage over Granger to slip away, and now that she no longer felt any guilt towards him there was little chance that she would be slaving away with her usual obsession with books to get them home. Instead, it appeared that Draco had riled her up so much so much she had decided the best revenge was to be the best Slytherin she could be and consequently had completely humiliated him in front of one of his former best friends.

At first, he had rushed toward the motionless Ginny Weasley…clearly some more tutelage was in order before she was anywhere close to being a part of his evil plan. He had whispered some soothing words, but the sight of Theo and Granger snogging like mad had irritated him enough to order Ginny to stay put and go marching up to them, intent on giving Granger what for. Then, of course, she had thrown his own words back in his face and gone sauntering off, looking mighty pleased with herself.

However, in ironic twist, this had been just the push he needed to return Draco to his former evil mental glory. Bugger acting like a precious Golden Boy and playing nice with Pothead and the Weasel! He was going to be as sneaky and low-handed and decidedly Slytherin as he possibly could until Granger was forced to come sobbing back to him on her hands and knees, begging to help him return to their own world. And he knew exactly where to start.

It had taken only a split second after Granger's snotty little remark to decide all of this. Knowing he would need a bit more time to come up with an appropriate course of action, Draco had swiveled to exit the Great Hall and was promptly stopped by a petite redheaded blur launching herself into his arms.

"Merlin, Dray, that was awful," whimpered Ginny, who he had temporarily forgotten about, into his chest, sounding as though she was on the verge of tears.

And who wouldn't be, fresh from a vicious dressing down at the hands of some Slytherins? In this case, of course, it wasn't actually Slytherin, but Granger. While Draco was still incredibly infuriated with the bint, he was also still slightly appreciative of the very Slytherin traits she was now starting to display – the verbal abuse of her former friend being a prime example.

Draco's immediate reaction was to extricate himself from the distressed redhead as quickly as possible, mindful of the pledge he had just made with himself to stop pandering to the sappy Gryffindors that had been foisted on him. Unfortunately, Draco was still a teenage boy and his hormones certainly weren't discriminating on which House the heaving chest pressed tightly against him had come from. Luckily, it didn't take long for Draco's quick mind to integrate his previous plans for Ginny, his new and ruthless desire for revenge, and a bit of snogging to come up with some even more spectacularly evil plans.

"It's alright, Gin," Draco whispered comfortingly, smirking to no one in particular over the redhead's shoulder.

Draco then disentangled himself from the sniffling girl only to wrap his arm protectively around her and guide her out of the Great Hall, making sure to give one quick glance back through the doorway where a perfectly framed Hermione Granger was glaring at him viciously.

In no time at all, Ginny was seated on the couch in Draco's small Head Boy common room with the box of tissues and glass of water that Draco had provided her with. She was still sniffling a bit and mumbling quite a lot – some about her own stupidity, some about the unattainable beauty that was Theo Nott, but the majority was about "that disgusting, horrible slag." Draco was actually quite impressed with the colorful and inventive vocabulary that the Weasley girl had acquired and while he was continuously rubbing her back soothingly, he also patted her on the back encouragingly when she got into a particular good tear. Finally, she became silent and stared at him with large, still watery eyes that reminded him a good deal of Pansy's.

"Do you feel a little better now?" he asked quietly.

She nodded.

"Well, I don't mean to make you more upset or anything, but there is something I'd like to ask you about."

While Draco knew that his question could set her off into hysterics again, the answer was rather necessary to Draco's plans and how long it would take to achieve them. Ginny didn't really look like she was about to object so he forged onward.

"Why is this so awful for you? I was really under the impression that you were totally in love with Harry. It just seems a bit sudden for you to like someone new. I mean, you've hardly ever spoken to Theo, but his rejection seems to have hit quite hard," he finished delicately.

Ginny looked at him for a moment and sighed.

"I do seem rather silly, don't I?"

Draco sat still, looking at her steadily. It was unclear what reaction she hoped for with a question like this.

"Before wizard children get accepted at Hogwarts, there are many options for where parents can send them for primary school. Some send them to Muggle schools, some homeschool. When I was growing up there were two other wizarding families that lived nearby…the Notts and the Clearwaters. Even though we don't generally get on with families like that, we are still purebloods, so all of our parents decide to hire a tutor for all of us together. I played with Theo for several years when I was little, until his father pulled him out and sent him away to hang out with his stupid Playgroup for the first time. Of course, we never really spoke once we got to school, but every once in awhile when I saw him I could tell that he remembered me…remembered when we were friends…" Ginny trailed off.

Draco was honestly flabbergasted. He knew that Theo had been the last to join their group, he had not start homeschooling with them until he had been nine or ten. But not in the seven years since then had he once mentioned his association with the Weasley family to Draco or any of their other friends.

"Hey!" Draco yelped, a thought dawning on him.

"What?"

"You lied to me last night…you acted like he was just some guy you barely knew," Draco said accusingly.

"Well, we were having ice cream night, weren't we?" Ginny said, amused, as though this was obvious. "I'm not going to break out with some big dramatic story during fun gossip time. I know how you like your gossip," she said teasingly.

Draco glared at her, irritated, but then changed the subject to another question that had cropped up in his mind. "What about Ron?"

"Oh, he probably took it harder than I did. The three of us were together the most…the rest of the kids were a good deal older or younger, except for Fred and George who would always go off by themselves, doing Merlin knows what, stupid prats. Anyway, when Theo left, Ron wrote him a whole bunch of letters, but he never responded and Ron was so hacked off…I remember he went out to degnome the garden and he terrorized them so badly they didn't come back for ages after that, I guess that's why Mum's always after him to it on the holidays. I don't know if ever spoke to him during first year, obviously I wasn't there, but he never would say a word about it to me and during my first year they just acted like they didn't know each other at all," she finished, looking understandably breathless.

"Wow," murmured Draco, still fairly stunned. "So you really do like him then?"

"Well, I suppose, yeah," Ginny responded, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I mean, I love Harry and I guess I always thought I was in love with him as well, just because it was so simple and he was right there, you know? But Theo was really the first boy I ever had a crush on. I guess I just thought it would be nice to finally do something about it."

Draco nodded, feeling immensely pleased with the way things were turning out and the secrets that seemed to just keep magically falling into his lap.

"And it would be lovely to bugger things up for that pureblooded, pure evil bint, Malfoy," Ginny added vehemently.

_My thoughts exactly,_ Draco said to himself happily.

"I think I can definitely help you. I'm a teenage boy, I know how teenage boys think, the only thing is…" he trailed off deliberately, trying his best to look conflicted and unsure.

"What is it?" Ginny asked eagerly, scooting closer to him on the couch.

"Well, since you're younger and in Gryffindor, Nott probably doesn't even see you as someone that he could be interested in romantically. You have to shown him that you can be that, that you're sexy and stuff," Draco finished, still trying his best to appear as though this was terribly awkward and uncomfortable for him to talk about.

"Well, that sounds logic enough. How would I go about doing that, though? I do have some rather sluttish clothes that my suitemates gave me for my birthday as a gag," she said thoughtfully.

Draco grinned at her. _This might be easier than I expected._

"While I wholeheartedly approve of you tarting up your wardrobe, I was thinking more along the lines of a physical demonstration."

"Oh!" Ginny's eyes widened as she grasped his meaning. "But who…"

Draco composed his face in an expression that he hoped was bashful and modest. "Well, I was thinking that I could, I mean, it obviously wouldn't be terrible for me because you're well, you know, and then after it was done, you wouldn't have to-"

"No, of course, it's a brilliant idea," Ginny responded, her eyes glowing mischievously. "Other people would believe it realistically because you're one of my best mates and all, and when it was over, it wouldn't be messy or anything because you'd have know from the beginning that it was all pretend."

"The only problem is…" Draco started.

"…Harry and Ron," Ginny finished for him. "Well, we'll just have to make sure they don't find out then. I suppose you'll have to tell them you really love me and all that rot and then I'll break up with you so they don't try to break your face or anything stupid and over-protective like that," she stated briskly.

Draco laughed in amazement. Although her Gryffindor tendencies were still quite prevalent, he almost actually liked the chit. Clearly, she was much more open-minded than Potter and his other pals and she was actually quite attractive – petite with a delicate bone structure that made her appear quite fragile. But now that she had gotten so excited she seemed like she was a little less breakable than she had first appeared…kind of a like a kitten that thinks it's fiercer than it really is.

"I'll be honest, I was pretty sure even before I started talking that this was a stupid plan and you'd never go along with it, but if you're sure that this is what you want to do, I won't let you down," Draco said, almost truthfully.

"No, it's perfect!" Ginny exclaimed. "I love every part of it and it sounds like it will be more fun than I've had in ages – I just love secret plans!"

"Alright then, I'm sure you have other things you need to be doing," Draco said as he stood up from the couch. It was getting harder and harder for him to maintain the façade of an earnest Gryffindor that was trying to help one of his best mates, albeit in an unconventional way. In reality, Draco was ready to start getting his revenge on Granger, not to mention his enthusiasm for the snogging. But he had to take it slow, because although Ginny appeared keen on his idea right now, he wasn't really sure how long he could manipulate her into thinking the objective was Theo and not Granger.

"Wait," Ginny said quietly, grabbing Draco's wrist and tugging on it gently.

"Yes?" Draco remained stationary, but turned to look at her.

Ginny broke eye contact and mumbled something unintelligible, looking down at her lap.

"What did you say?" Draco asked, confused.

Ginny looked up at him, her face flushed in a bright pink that clashed horribly with her hair, yet still appeared rather endearing.

"I said, maybe I could stay and we could practice for awhile. You know, to make it look more real, I guess," she managed to squeak out.

Draco sank back down on the couch next to Ginny and looked at her with what he hoped was a gentle smile, but he imagined it was much more predatory than that. At this point, the idea of fooling around with the Weasley girl for the sake of fooling around was almost as appealing as doing it to mess with Granger.

"I'm okay with that," he murmured.

Draco reached up and brushed the hair that had fallen in Ginny's eyes back behind her ear, leaving his hand there to stroke her cheek with the pad of his thumb. Ginny flushed even more, but looked up to meet his eyes and smiled anxiously at him. He nodded at her reassuringly and she reached up to run her fingers through his hair.

"It's so soft," she said in wonder. "Like a baby's."

"Because that's what every bloke wants to hear when he's going in for a snog," Draco replied off-handedly.

"Sorry!" Ginny looked rather embarrassed. "I didn't mean-"

Draco leaned over abruptly and silenced her with his lips. Ginny squeaked in surprise, but didn't move away. Draco took that as a sign to deepen their kiss. He reached up with the hand that Ginny was still firmly grasping the wrist of and placed it on his own shoulder. Ginny took the hint and quickly twined both of her arms around his neck. Hands now free, Draco reached up to thread his fingers through her fiery red hair and pulled her more firmly to him.

Although a sort of nervous, jittery energy was coursing through both of them and the sense of doing something forbidden pervaded the room, Draco would still term the kissing they were doing right now as rather chaste. Displeased with that, he gently traced the crease of her lips with his tongue until she opened her mouth tentatively and allowed his tongue entrance. The taste of Ginny's mouth was that of dark chocolate, which was Draco's weakness, and a hint of coffee. The delicate smell of freesias also wafted into his nose, coming from the curtain of wavy red hair that currently surrounded him.

The heady smell of things distinctly female made Draco shudder reflexively and he let out a soft moan and he tried to draw her closer, seizing her so forcefully that she toppled over from her already precarious position on the couch and into his lap. Draco half expected her to squeak again, as so far he had felt like he was just kissing her and she wasn't really kissing him back. Instead, Ginny started to kiss him back enthusiastically, pushing her own tongue into his mouth and let out a breathy moan that made his cock twitch in his pants. She then snuggled further into Draco until they were both lying horizontally on the couch.

Ginny disentangled her arms from around Draco's head and slid them down towards his waistband. At first, Draco was mildly shocked by her audacity, but instead of reaching further down, she untucked his shirttails from his pants and slid her hands up his chest. Ginny carefully traced the planes of Draco's lean, Quidditch-hardened form with her dainty fingers while Draco continue to plunder her mouth with his tongue.

After several minutes more of heated snogging, Draco left Ginny's mouth and traced a path along the line of her jaw and then on down her slender neck, where the scent of freesias was even stronger. He alternately nipped, kissed, sucked, and licked down the length of her neck, pausing in places where he could tell she found it to be most pleasurable. He could tell, of course, by the way she began to clutch at his chest frantically, as well as by the volume of the breathy little moans and wails that had been falling continuously from her lips. Before, he had found the constant spill of words from her mouth fairly irritating, but if it was always sounds like this instead of idle gossip, he could probably handle it a great deal better. He remembered his conversation earlier with Granger that had clearly indicated that she found Ginny's verbosity to be an irritant as well. His new solution to that problem probably wouldn't pan out as well for Granger as it had for him, though.

_Shite._ The thought of Granger very suddenly reminded Draco of why he was doing what he was doing right now. Draco drew Ginny's hands out from under his shirt and clasped them firmly in his own larger ones.

"That's probably enough for now," he said quietly.

"You're right," Ginny agreed quickly, trying to tug her hands away and raise herself up off the couch. "I shouldn't have-"

"No, no, no," Draco said firmly, recognizing that he needed to instill some confidence in the clearly insecure chit. "You misunderstand. Much as I would love to continue this, I do have some homework to take care of." Draco hoped that sounded plausible for his bookwormish Gryffindor persona. "And you were supposed to meet Loo-, I mean, Luna for lunch, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Ginny looked suitably pacified. "I forgot about that."

Draco helped Ginny up off the couch and took his time helping her straighten her clothes and hair before placing a hand on the small of her back to lead her to the door.

"So, we'll start at dinner, then?" Ginny asked hopefully as she stood half-in, half-out of the door.

"Sounds like a plan," Draco agreed.

Draco watched her walk down the corridor, then sighed and turned back into his room. He had so much to do before then, mostly concerning the rest of his plans for Granger and his ex-friends. But first, a cold shower.

_Definitely a cold shower._

**A/N: Wasn't really sure about this chapter, but I do have an eventual plan of where I'm going, I promise. Anyway, would really love to hear thoughts and opinions about this one! Review, my darlings!**


	16. Attack Mistletoe

Hello, faithful readers! This is just a quick note to say that I have added a new story called "Attack Mistletoe: A Christmas Tale" that takes place in the "A Spell Gone Awry" universe. As ASGA is set in 7th year, this story is set Christmas 6th year, so it's got a lot of backstory information that will be important coming up later. Of course, it's not absolutely necessary to read it, as any needed details from that story can get reposted in ASGA, but it does have some helpful clues about where ASGA is going. Also, I would love you forever if you reviewed it because I don't want it to be a sad and lonely oneshot. ;)

Thanks ever so, Corinne.


	17. Dinner and a Show

**A/N: Yes, yes, it's been terribly long since an update. I went on a extended Christmas hiatus, and promptly after had a bit of self-confidence crisis. I was basically like, "Omg, my story sucks, I should just delete it and start from scratch, I can never fix how horrible this had become." But I'm all better now! What cured me was: (A) great convos with fyren galan this past week and (B) some pretty, lacy Slytherin-colored things I got at Victoria's Secret this weekend. ;)**

**It's a little short, but I promise more in a much quicker fashion than last time.**

At dinnertime, Hermione once again found herself in the Great Hall, cozily ensconced by the rest of the Pureblood Playgroup. It had been a rather uneventful day, or at least as uneventful as a day in an alternate universe with Draco Malfoy as her only companion could be. Since their brief altercation at breakfast, Hermione had not seen or heard a peep from Malfoy; it was the longest they had gone without contacting each other since arriving here.

To be perfectly honest, Hermione was just fine with that. She was still absolutely furious with him, that combined with her escalating affection for her four Slytherin companions made her determined to wait Malfoy out until he came groveling back to her, begging to be sent back home. She was confident that even if he attempted to figure out how to leave without her that it would never work – reversal spells were usually all-or-nothing type deals.

In a rather ironic twist, even though Hermione had planned to avoid Malfoy at all costs and simply hang out with the Playgroup today, they had actually dispersed and gone their own separate ways after breakfast. Apparently, Saturday morning and afternoon was when the Slytherins all did their homework for the whole week. This allowed for pressure-free partying for the rest of week. Even more ironic was the fact that this was, apparently, her idea.

Hermione had been hoping, well actually, expecting, to spend a good deal of time with Theo today. But after breakfast was over and they walked out of the Great Hall hand in hand, Theo had stopped short yanking Hermione to a halt as well when she had tried to proceed in the direction of the Head Girl suite.

"_See you later, love," Theo murmured as he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand._

"_Where are you going?" Hermione asked, confused. "Come with me to my room." She smiled at him in what she hoped was a suitably seductive manner._

"_Now you know I would hardly get any homework done in there." He grinned slyly. "Far too many distractions."_

"_Who cares if we get distracted? There's no law that says we should be doing homework right now."_

_Theo chuckled. "You practically made it a law yourself, Miss Malfoy, insisting we get our work done in 'one fell swoop,' you called it."_

"_Oh, yes," Hermione nodded vigorously, whilst inwardly chiding herself for making a mistake, even a small one, that could lead to the discovery of her secret. "I just want to be with you," she covered, but also meant truthfully enough that it scared her._

"_I'll come collect you in time for dinner," he promised, dropping one more kiss to her hand, this time caressing her sensitive inner wrist with his soft lips. "It'll be time before you know it."_

The time had certainly flown. Hermione had actually accomplished all of her work for the week, the amount of work it would have taken Hermione Granger twice or three times as long to do. It had been half-painful, half-thrilling to rush through her schoolwork in such a manner. Part of her was aghast that she would give anything less than a hundred and ten percent effort to her studies. The other part of her delighted in the fact that she could simply do an adequate job, because that was what was expected of her here – it's not like these grades would ever matter in her own world.

Anyway, now she was back at the Great Hall for dinner with the Playgroup. Blaise was telling a story about the History of Magic essay he had just completed.

"Absolute rubbish, I tell you," he boasted. "I just copied the summaries from each chapter of Goblin Rebellions and Ruckuses and mixed them all in there. I even wrote 'Binns is a terrible bore' at one point.'"

"Blaise!" Hermione exclaimed, ready to admonish him.

"What?" he responded defensively. "Your darling Theodore over there was the one that told me Binns only reads the first and last sentence of each essay, anyway."

"Theo!" Hermione turned her head the other direction, looking just as severely at him at she had at Blaise a moment before.

Theo gave Hermione a "_who? little innocent me?_" look at the same time while simultaneously releases his firm grip on Hermione's waist so he could snake his hand around to smack Blaise on the backside of the head.

"Ow! You going to let him take such liberties with me, Hermie?" Blaise whined, rubbing the back of his head.

Hermione opened her mouth to unleash a smart retort, but was interrupted by twin squeals from Pansy and Daphne, who were sitting across the table from them.

Blaise, Hermione, and Theo all turned around to see what had shocked Daphne and the ever-chatty Pansy into speechlessness.

Settling in at the Gryffindor table was Draco and Ginny. Well, more accurately, Draco was settling in at the table, Ginny was settling in onto Draco. She was sitting in his lap, hands twined around his neck, but she was facing their direction and giggling while staring distractedly into space. Her head was craned in such a direction to give Draco better access to her neck, which he was peppering with small kisses, and her ear, which he was whispering undoubtedly dirty things into, considering Ginny's riotous giggles and the way her face was beginning to flush prettily.

Draco must have said something particularly provocative because Ginny stopped giggling abruptly and spun to face him. He smirked at her, still very Slytherin in manner, and Hermione mentally chided Ginny for not being able to tell that something was amiss with the boy that was supposed to be her Gryffindor counterpart. Ginny couldn't hear Hermione's feeble attempt at telepathy, though, and after a brief moment she crushed her face to Draco's and they began to snog passionately.

It took a great deal of effort on Hermione's part not to fling herself out of her seat and rush across the Great Hall and remind Draco just how hard she was capable of slapping him. Besides, she was certain she could wallop him even harder than she had in third year.

However, in the brief moment it took her to restrain herself, her quick mind had also figured out the reason for this obnoxious and inappropriate display. Obviously, this was retaliation for the way Hermione had so smoothly ingratiated herself with his friends. She took about another millisecond to collect herself and sighed as if she was terribly bored.

"That's new," she commented drily to the Playgroup, turning and directing her attention back toward the Slytherin girls.

"Well, it's enough to make me lose my appetite," Daphne said, pushing her plate away from her.

Indeed, she looked paler than usual, which only served to make her more attractive, Hermione noted in mildly envious amazement.

"I thought the Golden Elite was supposed to be all…chaste," Pansy added, looking similarly disgusted.

"Maybe Sir Goody-Goody Granger is, but Weasley is a fine piece of arse." Blaise finally turned back around as well, with one last lingering look at the Gryffindor table. "Although I would definitely find some place more discreet to do something like that with her. And probably a bit more," he added thoughtfully.

Blaise's eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look as he imagined (presumably) his own liaison with Ginny Weasley. It took a round of giggles and a sharp elbow to the ribs by Hermione to snap him out of it.

"What? Tell me you wouldn't mind five minutes behind Boris the Bewildered with Ginger," he protested, eyes twinkling with mirth.

"No."

"No."

"No. And if you ever call me Ginger, you know what's coming to you."

"Oh, come on!" Blaise mock-leered at Daphne. "You're all ruining my hot girl-on-girl fantasies, you know. At least Theo agrees with me."

Three amused faces swiveled to look for Theo's confirmation or rebuttal.

Theo was hardly even paying attention to the conversation around him, he was staring furiously at his pork chop, as though it had done something terrible to offend him. Perhaps he was thinking of becoming a vegetarian?

"Theo," Blaise repeated. "Tell me you wouldn't say no to a corridor quickie with Ging-…Ginny."

Theo finally noticed his name being said and looked up dazedly.

"You. Ginny Weasley." Blaise made a rude hand gesture. "Yes or no?"

The girls were still looking at him expectantly.

"Don't bring me into this. I don't feel the need to participate in your lewd and disgusting mind games." Theo snapped, brusquely ending the jovial mood of the group.

Hermione immediately felt an uncomfortable clenching in her stomach. Maybe Theo did like Ginny, but didn't want to discuss it with Hermione there? Had she been reading their whole relationship wrong thus far? Was she being too clingy and girlfriend-y when he was just looking for a bit of fun with a mate?

"Merlin! No need to be such a tetchy git about it, Nott," Pansy snapped back at Theo, noticing the rather crestfallen look on her best friend's face.

"Beezie's just horny, clearly," Daphne added archly, picking up on the girl-in-distress vibes as well. "Come along, dear, maybe you'll get some action as long as you're mindful of the pet names you use with me."

Daphne unfolded her limbs and rose from the table elegantly, shaking out her red tresses in a way that was clearly meant to be a warning to Blaise, but left several younger Slytherins sitting further down the table with their jaws hanging wide open.

Blaise rose as well and bowed to Daphne as she walked around the corner of the table.

"Oh, my fiery-haired goddess, my voluptuous Boudicca, let us fly away from this dreadful place, to mine own resplendent chambers, where we can indulge in the most delicious sins of the flesh," he said grandly as he offered his arm to her.

"I knew he had one too many éclairs for dessert." Pansy had gotten up as well and linked her arm through Blaise's free one. "Let's see if we can do something about that fantasy you mentioned earlier," she teased as Blaise's eyes got wide.

"Away, ladies, away!" he bolted forward, practically dragging the two giggling girls along behind him.

Hermione knew they had all meant well, leaving as hastily as they had. Obviously they had simply meant to give her and Theo some alone time to talk. They clearly needed to, anyway. While she and Theo had been more than friendly in the last couple days, they hadn't exactly verbalized what it was that they were to each other. But the Theo sitting next her right now wasn't the one that she had begun to develop feelings for. He looked upset, guarded, angry, _Slytherin_.

"It would have been okay if you had agreed with him," she started nervously, her voice smaller and shakier than she would have liked. "It's not like we're exclusive or anything."

Hermione hated how much of a girl she sounded like right now. Yes, the whole fun and flirty kissing business was much more enjoyable than she had imagined, but if always came with this tense silence and awful feeling in the pit of her stomach, Hermione was no longer sure it was such a great trade-off. She distinctly missed her own world, with her own Harry and Ron and the Golden Trio's very gender-neutral relationship at this moment.

As Theo had returned to staring tersely at the remains of his pork chop, Hermione, now curious, took this opportunity to sneak a peek back at the Gryffindor table. Ginny was at least mildly closer to being seated on the bench now, and she and Draco were now eating food instead of each other.

But Hermione was more interested in Harry and Ron, who were sitting facing away from her. If their stiff body language was any indication, neither was super-comfortable with this new romantic development. She squinted harder and noticed that Ron's ears were closer in hue to his hair than to his regular skin tone. Hermione stifled a giggle at the thought of how very red Ron's face must be if even his ears were that color.

Still wrapped up in her own thoughts, Hermione almost missed the fact that Theo had gotten up and was swiftly exiting the Great Hall. Her eyes began to feel dangerously watery as she stood up quickly, almost knocking her goblet off the table, and rushed to follow him.

"Theo! Wait!" she said loudly, inwardly cursing how desperate her voice sounded.

He made no indication that he had heard her, but many other people obviously had, if the sudden murmuring and whispered gossip was any indication. She tried to ignore it and focus on the double doors that meant an escape from prying eyes that was directly in front of her, but her glance accidentally strayed back toward the Gryffindor table.

Harry and Ron were blessedly oblivious to the subtle drama that had played out behind them and were currently focused on Ginny and Draco's intertwined hands and a large serving of mashed potatoes, respectively.

Ginny, on the other hand, was staring intently at her, but turned to whisper, no doubt maliciously, to the blonde sixth year sitting on the other side of her as soon as she made eye contact with Hermione.

When Hermione's eyes slid to Draco, he steadily maintained eye contact with her. She felt her eyes began to water even more dangerously as he stared at her. He looked utterly pleased with himself, even more so than usual when she was upset or humiliated, and Hermione wondered if he knew something that she didn't.

"_Midnight,"_ Draco mouthed silently and quickly turned his attention back to the Gryffindor table.

Hermione took the last steps to propel her outside the Great Hall and cut to the side quickly so she could lean against the wall outside the line of vision of the rest of the student body.

The tears that had been threatening to leak from her eyes finally clouded her vision and spilled over. Hermione wiped her eyes furiously with the sleeve of her robe. Damn that Theo for being so inexplicably hot and cold and impossible to understand. Damn her stupid, underused teenage hormones for allowing this relationship, if she could even call it that, to progress so fast. Damn Draco for getting her into this mess.

Yes, there it was. Damn Draco. When she saw him at midnight she was going to…

_That slimy bastard. _

She had thought that this whole snogging Ginny stunt was just to rile her up. But, as evidenced, she had quickly seen through that. The person it had riled up was Theo. Draco obviously knew something about Theo and Ginny that Hermione wasn't privy to. Which was strange. Hermione considered Ginny her best girlfriend, at least back in Regular Land, and for the life of her, she couldn't remember Ginny ever mentioning anything about Theodore Nott to her.

Clearly, Draco did know _something_, though, and he had used it to make Theo upset, which in turn made Hermione upset, which was supposed to send her running back to Draco to find a solution to their predicament and get her away from the "horrible" Slytherins.

That stupid tosser was probably preening right now, thinking how easily he had expertly manipulated Hermione and everyone else around him into doing exactly what he wanted.

Well, he could just stuff it.

Hermione wasn't going anywhere at midnight. She was sticking with her Slytherins, and she would dig and dig and worm her way in until she knew more details and secrets about him and his mates than Draco could ever imagine. That way, she could lord it over him when they got back. No, not _when_. If.

There was no way in hell Hermione would cooperate with Draco for anything now unless _he _came to _her_, imploring, begging, pleading for her assistance.

**A/N: Review, please! Also, if you haven't read the oneshot "Attack Mistletoe" it's a story from this universe that will soon become important to the main plot. It felt kinda neglected, so maybe review that one too? :)**


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